Don't Lie
by adolt-affair
Summary: As a child, Santana makes a promise never to lie to Brittany. Growing up, they two of them realize just how hard of a promise it is to keep. Heavy side of Faberry. History of Brittana and more evolved canon storylines.
1. let's keep our heads in the clouds

**Don't Ever Lie To Me**

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><p>In Lima, Ohio there was a small park dead center of town. Some days, a walk there could be taken in perfect seclusion, while other times the community of kids from surrounding neighborhoods populated every inch and blade of grass the ground had to offer. For parents, it was a place to drop their kids and have them be babysat by adults that they frequently invited over for dinner. For kids, the park meant seeing their friends from elementary school and daring each other to jump off the higher throngs of the playground. The park was symbolic for almost everyone in town for one reason or another but there were a few who held the place in a much richer part of their hearts, for reasons important only to themselves.<p>

One child, with an appreciation greater than all of her friend's combined, was Brittany Pierce. She laid on the ground staring up into the clouds with a furrowed brow, mumbling to herself contentedly. Staying off the equipment had always been her thing and that day wasn't any exception.

The sky, filled with puffy clouds she distinguished into the shapes of her favorite animals, laid open and vulnerable to her inquisitive eye. She muttered their names, "Rabbit, cat, turtle," in confusion, tracing the shapes with her finger pointed straight up in the air, trying to place a title on each one. They weren't what she wanted to see and that annoyed her.

Growing tired of the confusing animals, Brittany shut her eyes and relaxed into the soft cushion of grass beneath her back. After a few gentle moments of the breeze scraping past her bare arms, the sun's rays left her face and she pouted. A cold crept over her cheeks and she had to fight the chill slowing moving up her spine.

"Britt-Britt?" The voice would have startled her if it wasn't so familiar. "Are you sleeping?"

Hearing her best friend's voice, Santana Lopez, immediately brought a smile to Brittany's face.

"No. I got tired trying to figure out what animals were in the sky…so I decided to close my eyes instead."

Confused at first, Santana looked up at the sky to see if there were any birds flying around. Upon seeing the clouds she immediately understood Brittany had been seeing the shapes of animals mimicked by the fluffy clouds. She knew Brittany had a wild imagination, which sometimes caused the other kids to tease and pick on her, but she completely got how Britt viewed the world. Sometimes she even wished she could think along the same pattern.

Looking back down to the girl on the ground she smiled. "Oh, well I got us ice cream."

At the mention of ice cream, Brittany's eyes shot open and she darted forward to inspect Santana's hands.

Only after a few seconds did she look questioningly her friend, wary of the the delicious treats.

"Where did you get these?" Brittany asked.

Santana averted her eyes. Usually Brittany caught her lies quickly, but she decided it was worth a shot anyway. "Um, well, I just saw these two cones sitting on one of the picnic tables next to the swing set and I figured if nobody wanted them then we should have them."

She exhaled, glad to make it through the fib without stuttering. She hoped Brittany would let it go—

"No one would _leave_ ice cream on a table. Ice cream is amazing. Where did they come from?" Brittany asked again making sure to hold her friend's gaze.

"I-I don't know, s-someone just gave them t-to me," Santana said locking her stare with Brittany's. She was going to hold to her lie as long as she could. She would not lose her pride to—

"Quit lying," Brittany demanded in her "serious" voice. Rarely did Santana hear that tone and it told her exactly when to give up. If there was one thing she knew, Brittany hated being lied to; it had something to do with people thinking she was gullible or something like that.

With a sigh, she muttered, "Fine. Puck and Finn were playing tag with that gross Berry girl and they left their ice cream so I took it." She huffed at having to explain herself. But she also felt bad for lying to her friend in the first place.

"San, come on." Brittany took both cones from Santana's hands and stalked away towards the other playing kids. Santana groaned and followed Brittany at a slow pace. They made their way over to the swing sets—at least she hadn't lied about everything—and found a small dark boy with a Mohawk standing over a tinnier brunette girl whimpering on the ground.

"I _tagged _you Berry that means you have to chase us. Not sit on the ground and wait for us to come near you!" he shouted down at her. A taller brown-haired boy walked over to the pair and helped the small girl to her feet.

"Come on, Rach. It's fun if you just play along." Engorged cheeks grinned at her in a way that managed to elicit a blush on Rachel's cheeks. Thinking quickly, she tapped his shoulder and ran away from them.

"Dude, that girl likes you," the boy teased his friend. The taller one grinned sheepishly and forced his eyes down to the ground to hide his embarrassment.

"No way. We're just friends. Girls are gross anyway." He whispered the last part to himself.

"Noah! Finn!"

Brittany's voice broke them out of their conversation and they both turned to see her stalking their way, followed by an irritated Santana, muttering angry words as she walked.

"Ladies," Noah said smoothly as the girls finally reached them. "What brings you—are those our ice cream cones! How did you get them? We put them down for a second to play tag and then they were gone." He snatched the two cones out of Brittany's hands and handed one to Finn.

"Er…thanks Brittany." Finn muttered to the girl in front of him. He leaned his head to the side to get a better look behind Brittany. "Santana."

Santana waved her hand dismissively. She was happy Brittany hadn't made her apologize for taking their ice cream but she was not going to be happy she was now sweet-deprived. Quickly she devised a plan to manipulate her parents into giving her ice cream later. _'What kind though? Cookies and Cream? Cookie Dough? Definitely something with cookies…'_

"You're welcome. San took them, but I made sure we didn't eat your food. That'd be wrong, right Santana?"

The question pulled Santana out of her thoughts and caught her off guard. "Wait what?" she asked. Brittany glared at her for not paying attention.

"I_ was saying_ that you wanted to apologize for taking something that wasn't yours." Brittany was indicating that she needed to say something. Santana knew she wasn't going to get away without some sort of apology.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, guys," she said with no hint of sincerity. Her tight-lipped smile sealed the forced apology.

A grin grew on Brittany's face, satisfied that she had fixed the problem. "Well bye guys. We're gonna go walk around the water and see the ducks before our parents pick us up. Bye!"

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand causing a blush to creep into her cheeks. She was used to the gesture but they had never held hands in front of their friends and she couldn't help the instant embarrassment. Her eyes stared directly into the dirt at her feet and she kicked at the loose pebbles. Before she had much time to process, Brittany was tugging her harshly towards the edge of a lake centered in the middle of the park.

"Girls are weird." Finn turned to see Noah licking the remains of his ice cream off his fingers.

"Yeah but those two are cute." Noah pointed towards the retreating figures of the two girls.

"Hey! I thought we were playing tag," Rachel's shrill voice called from the other side of the Jungle Gym. She peered around the side of the slides giving them both a as they searched to find where her voice had come from.

Noah took off running from Finn, remembering their game, and caught up to Rachel who Finn has his eyes trained on.

"Yeah…cute," Finn muttered, before setting off and running towards his two friends.

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><p>Still holding hands, Brittany and Santana walked side by side at the edge of a pond which reflected the sun into a shimmering white light masking the top of the water. At a slow and steady pace they admired their surroundings in a complete and comfortable silence. Santana focused on the deep green colors of the woods encasing the back parts of the pond while Brittany searched frantically (but quietly) for those elusive little animals she had grown to love. She hoped she could find a duck that resembled the one Santana gave her for her last birthday. She would've loved to pretend that her own stuffed toy had come alive.<p>

Santana felt Brittany quicken her pace when the sound of quacking sounded off in the distance. She smiled to herself knowing how much Brittany loved the annoying little birds. Personally, she didn't see the big deal. They were loud, they bit, and crapped all over the place. She would much rather see a lion or a tiger, something exotic. But instead she was forced to see the same lame ducks (no pun intended) she always saw.

But she knew that seeing them was Brittany's favorite thing to do. Brittany would smile endlessly as long as she got to be near those annoying little things. And seeing her happy was good enough for Santana. Nothing made her happier than when a grin was plastered across her best friend's face, and knowing she helped make it happen.

"San," Brittany stopped them and quickly grabbed her hand so that she held both of them in between their bodies.

"What Britt-Britt?" Santana faced Brittany with the lake as a backdrop for those long blonde locks that cascaded around her friends face. She smiled at how the sun brought out the gold highlights in Brittany's hair.

"Don't lie to me," she deadpanned in utter seriousness. Her blue eyes bore into Santana's relentlessly. She was going to get her point across one way or another.

"But Britt I didn't—" Santana started to say but was cut off swiftly.

"Yes, you did San. I know you didn't want to get in trouble and you really wanted that ice cream but you lied to me. I don't like it when you lie. We're supposed to be best friends. Best friends tell each other the truth, no matter what." Brittany said each word with conviction trying to show Santana how serious she was.

She didn't know what to say. Instead, she stared behind Brittany for a moment thinking of how to apologize. She didn't mean to hurt her feelings. She just _really_ wanted that ice cream. Brittany wasn't supposed to take it so seriously. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"I'm sorry, Britt. I won't ever lie to you again. About anything, I promise." Santana gazed back into the blue eyes in front of her and saw the grave look disappear, instead replaced with one of sheer happiness.

"Pinky promise?" Brittany thrust her left pinkie finger into Santana's face. A smile grew slightly on her face as she watched Santana lift her pinkie up into the air to link them together.

"Pinky promise." The corner of her lip twisted up as she linked her pinky with Brittany's and squeezed hard to seal the promise. It seemed easy enough to keep. Brittany was her best friend. What reason could she have to lie to her in the first place?

"Good," Brittany replied lowering their fingers but keeping them intertwined. "Let's go then." She pulled Santana forward and towards the large mass of quacking birds.

The smile never left Santana's face.

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><p>Brittany crawled into her bed, pulling the duck-covered sheets up and over her chest, and waited for her mother to come in and finish the job. While she waited, she remembered all the fun she had at the park. Playing on the swing sets with Santana seeing who could go higher, walking with Santana around the park, she even laughed remembering when Santana threw a rock at one of the ducks and it chased after her, knocking her off balance and into the water.<p>

Santana, Santana, Santana. Even saying her best friend's name brought a large smile to her face.

"What are you smiling about?" Anna Pierce said to her daughter as she walked over. She pulled the duck comforter up and around Brittany, slowly recollecting how her daughter begged and begged for it: the pouting she had to deal with in the store and even Santana joining in, wining her way into convincing Anna to purchase the set for Brittany. She remembered the smile they shared afterward while lying in the newly opened blankets, and even the soft "thanks" Brittany muttered before they fell asleep next to each other.

"I had _so_ much fun at the park today! Santana and I did everything. We played on the swings, and played tag with the boys, and we stopped Noah from shoving Rachel into the pond, and we—" Brittany began to ramble.

"Okay, okay hun, shhh. It's time to go to sleep. I'm glad you had a fun time today." Anna whispered and tried to soothe her into sleep. Brittany had a tendency to never calm down once she was riled up. She kissed her on the forehead and whispered "goodnight" before turning around to leave the room.

As soon as she neared the door, Brittany called to her mother, "Mommy, I have a question."

Sighing, Anna turned around and walked softly back over to her bed and sat down on the edge. She knew Brittany only used Mommy when she was seriously concerned about something.

"Yes dear?" she said softly and began running her fingers through the long, blonde hair that fell around Brittany's shoulders.

"You know how when me and Santana play house and we never know who is going to be the daddy and who is going to be the mommy? Well today Rachel was telling us about her _two _daddies. She doesn't have a mommy, she said she didn't need one cause her daddies love her enough and her daddies love each other more than other people's mommies and daddies love each other." Brittany paused unsure of how to ask her question. "Couldn't there be two mommies then? If Rachel can have two daddies then why can't we both be mommies when we play house. We love each other right?"

Anna's eyes grew as Brittany continued with her explanation. She immediately knew what her daughter was suggesting. Surely Brittany didn't love Santana in _that_ way, she was seven. How could that even be a possibility to her? She assured herself that Brittany wouldn't understand the implications of being gay at this age. Brittany meant that she loved Santana like a best friend. They were best friends. Best girl-friends. She quickly thought of a way to answer.

"Britt, honey, the way you love Santana is not like Rachel's daddies. There's a difference between friend love and love-love, like how I love your father. Rachel's daddies are not wrong for loving each other but it's a different kind of love."

Brittany thought hard about that for a moment. Anna soothed the rigid crease in her brow with a gently while she waited for an answer.

"So if I loved San in a different way it would be okay?"

Anna clenched her jaw at the question, unsure how to answer without upsetting her daughter. She knew it wasn't wrong for girls to have feelings for other girls. But she also didn't want Brittany to assume she "loved" Santana in that way at such a young age. She decided to just answer her daughter honestly.

"Yes honey, it would be okay."

"Awesome." Brittany broke out into a huge grin and turned her back to her mother. Anna exited the room and closed the door quietly. Brittany turned back over to reach under the other side of her bed. Finding what she searched for, she climbed back under the covers and let herself drift off into a peaceful sleep.

To her chest, Brittany clutched her toy duck and remembered the day at the park when Santana gave it to her:

_"This way you can take it home with you," Santana said, holding the toy in front of her with two hands. "You love 'em so I thought you could have one."_

_"You got this for me," Brittany asked. She took the gift and marveled at how soft it felt pressed against her cheek. She knew it wouldn't have felt as awesome if it hadn't come from Santana.  
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_"Of course. You're my best friend."  
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_Brittany dove forward and took Santana into her arms, squeezing their bodies together in the best hug she could ever remember having.  
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_"You're my best friend too."  
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For Brittany, the park meant something different too. It meant the place where her friendship with Santana began. And for her, that was the best reason to keep going back.


	2. i can keep a secret if you can

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: K+ for now, maybe T for later chapters**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: So I was going through idea for this fic after realizing people actually wanted to read it (thank you!:) and plotted out some future chapters. This chapter ended up being almost twice as long as the last. Just so everyone's aware Faberry will most likely show up a lot in this, but it is still focused mainly on Brittana. And I guess I have to mention the fact that it's "AU" cause Quinn never transferred but I might include a little Lucy backstory at some point. One more note is that I originally intended to get right into high school chapters, but I have so much more fun writing them as kids. So expect a few more chapters like this one before I get into them being older. Thank you so much for all the story alerts and favorites! **

**And to SomeAreLakes: Thank you for the review! I loved reading the stories about them as kids so I thought hell, might as well write one:)**

**Thanks, happy reading!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p><strong>Valentine's Day- Age 10<strong>

"Have a good day sweetie!" Santana rolled her eyes as her mom waved frantically from the driver side window. She waved back timidly, hoping she would just drive away.

"You too Mama..." she said back, starting to turn around and head into the school. But her mom wasn't done embarrassing her quite yet.

"I love you," she yelled from the car and Santana saw several of her classmates' heads turn, smirks growing on their faces. She didn't turn around, but hid her embarrassment by walking quickly into the school. In the hallway, Karofsky caught up to her.

He sneered at her. "I think you forgot to tell your _mommy_ that you _love_ her Lopez."

"Shut it David. Don't you have something better to do? Shouldn't you be teasing Hummel? It _is_ Valentine's after all." Santana tried to get the attention off her by hitting him where she knew it hurt.

"What are you trying to say?" He looked a combination of pissed and worried at the same time.

"Oh you know, what is it they say, 'boys torture the _girls_ they like.' Although I guess it's not really a _girl_..."

Karofsky huffed and stalked away from her, not wanting a confrontation. He was starting to learn messing with Santana was not a smart choice.

"Santana!" A squeal echoed down the hallway. Kids in Brittany's way were trampled or thrown out of the way as she ran past them, colliding with her at the end of the hall. They fell to the ground with a thud and into a fit of laughter.

"Hey Britt. Was this necessary," Santana struggled between labored breaths. Brittany had landed directly on top of her making it hard to breathe. A smile stretched wide across both, their faces were only a fraction of an inch apart. Santana could feel Brittany's breath on her cheek and it cause an uncomfortable warmth to rise from her own skin.

"Of course it was! I missed you," she remarked as if it was the simplest fact in the world, "I haven't seen you in _so_ long." She snuggled into Santana's shoulder and pouted.

Santana blushed and glanced at the kids passing them sprawled-out, a tangled mess of limbs, in the middle of the hallway.

"Britt, I just saw you last night at dance. That's not that long." She laughed trying to lightly shove the girl off. "Can we get up?"

Brittany jumped to her feet and reached out to help Santana up.

"I know," she said shyly. "But it felt like forever." Brittany reached down and linked her pinky with Santana's, leading them towards their classroom door. They took their seats at the back of the room behind Quinn and Puck's table. Santana tried to remind herself to not call her _Lucy, _after Quinn demanded it after Christmas. The transition would be hard, since she'd been calling her that since they met, but every time it almost slipped out, Quinn almost growled. Once they got settled, she turned around in her seat to talk with them.

"I wonder what we're doing today. I hope it's something fun since its Valentine's Day," Quinn said to them while they fought over colored pens. Santana managed to nab the pink one from Brittany and stuck out her tongue before turning her attention to Quinn.

"Sure you do _Quinnie_, you just want to make a valentine showing how much you love your Finnie-bear" she teased, making kissy faces. Brittany ignored the exchange and instead focused on the pink pen Santana waved back and forth as she talked. It made her dizzy so she quit and instead thought about their discussion.

Since they were too busy making faces at each other, Brittany caught them off guard by adding, "Wait, Q doesn't love Finn."

Santana turned to her friend, "What do you mean Britt?" Quinn's face shifted into a worried expression and Brittany sensed the sudden change in her behavior, recognizing she was somehow upsetting her friend.

She looked away from their gazes and tried to back track, "I just mean Q could like someone, but we don't know for sure if it's Finn, right?" She directed her question at Quinn. A look of relief spread across Quinn's face and she nodded, starting to turn around in her seat. At the last moment, she snatched the pen out of Santana's hand.

"Pink's my favorite color." Quinn turned to face the front of the room as the teacher walked in.

"Ugh, I hate you Fabray." Santana grunted and watched a half smile form on the face of the girl sitting directly in front of her. She quickly devised a way to get her back.

She smirked to herself and kicked the girl's chair, startling Quinn so much that she fell to the ground. Everyone in the classroom broke out into laughter and Santana's smirk grew, very much pleased with herself. Quinn let out a growl as she reclaimed her seat, an obvious red hue spreading across her face.

Santana glanced to her side to see a look of disapproval on Brittany's face. Brittany mouthed 'apologize' to Santana and she only shook her head defiantly. Brittany's finger uncurled from her own and she looked down immediately feeling the loss of warmth she was so used to. Brittany crossed her arms and once again nodded towards Quinn. Sighing, Santana sent another light kick to the chair in front of her to get Quinn's attention. She looked back with a scowl on her face, but mouthed 'what', curious of what she had to say. Santana mouthed a quick 'sorry' to her friend and pleaded with her eyes for a sign of forgiveness.

She didn't really mind if Quinn was mad at her. Santana wasn't all that into apologies; even to her parents. She could count on one hand how many times she had apologized to them. But the frown on Brittany's face needed to be fixed. An unhappy Brittany meant an unhappy Santana.

Quinn looked pensive for a moment and then nodded at Santana, showing that she accepted her apology. Santana turned to Brittany and quickly noticed the frown had already been replaced with a smile. Santana re-linked their pinkies and stared ahead as the teacher started the class.

"As you all know it's Valentine's Day and instead of going over the homework from last night I decided we could take the time before recess and make valentines for each other. I have construction paper, scissors, glitter," an eager Kurt squeaked at the mention of glitter, as did Rachel who sat directly at his side, "and glue up at the front on my desk so help yourselves. Also be careful and try not to make a mess. And that includes you Noah." She pointed directly at Puck who already had a look of mischief on his face.

"Teach, how many times do I have to tell you it's Puck. Noah is so lame." Their teacher scowled at the way he addressed her.

"Well then it's a fitting name for you," Santana quipped from behind him and managed to get a few laughs from the people surrounding them. Even Brittany had to chuckle at that one.

"Santana," the teacher scolded, trying to regain control of her classroom. "Alright everyone, get to it!"

A flurry of kids marched towards the desk at the front of the room to collect supplies for their valentines. Kurt fought with Rachel for the head of the line to get the first selection. Santana mocked his droning on and on about what colors they needed and made Quinn laugh as they stood to go get their craft supplies. Brittany started to stand until a hand pushed her back down.

"B stay here, I'll get us stuff." Santana flashed her a smile and walked towards the front of the room. Brittany sent a toothy grin at Santana's back. She loved how her friend was always taking care of her.

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><p>"Okay," their teacher called attention back to the front of the room, "take the last ten minutes to pass out the cards you made."<p>

The children stood from their seats and walked around handing out the valentines they crafted for their friends and crushes. Brittany handed a valentine to Quinn, who simply smiled in return—it looked like Quinn only made two valentines—and Puck waggled his eyebrows in response making a 'call-me' motion with his thumb and pinkie, earning himself a smack in the head from Santana. A boy they hardly knew rolled his wheelchair up to Brittany's desk after she settled back into her seat. He picked up a heart shaped card from his lap and placed it onto the table in front of Brittany, a blush spreading quickly across his cheeks. He shyly waited as Brittany opened the heart to read the inside which read simply, "Be Mine." She grinned ear to ear and dove out of her seat to hug him.

"Thank so much, uh." She looked around not remembering his name and hoping one of her friends knew it. Santana shrugged and Quinn was too busy looking back and forth between the two cards she held in each hand to help.

"Artie," he filled in kindly. Somehow the blush grew redder.

"Thanks Artie! I love it," Brittany practically yelled into his face. She sat back down and turned her attention away from him. After an awkward moment Artie turned and rolled away from the group of girls and Puck.

"Nerd," Santana shot out harshly, earning a laugh from Puck and a glare from Brittany. Quinn still looked between cards, but had started paying more attention to the one she had glued sequins and jewels to.

"That's not nice San." Brittany defended Artie, whom she found incredibly sweet. She opened the card one more time before another one was thrust into her hands forcibly by Santana. It was more detailed and was decorated on the outside with little drawings of ducks, unicorns, and flowers. She smiled knowing how much effort Santana must have put into it, but wondered how it could have been created in the brief time they were given. She opened it to find a picture of them on a swing set, grinning, with their pinkies locked. She recognized the picture; she had a copy in a frame at home. They were much younger and had just met…

_5 years earlier. _

"_Honey you're going to love the Pierces. They have a daughter your age. Her mother and I used to go to school together. Remember to be nice." Santana's mother continued to babble on as they walked towards the far end of the park. The only good part of today was that she could swing on the swing set. She loved to see how high she could go. As she approached the swings, a small blonde quickly snagged the one she had her eyes on. Santana was not about to have her favorite swing stole by some dumb girl, so she marched heavily towards the playground. _

"_Hey! Get off my swing. I wants on it." She grabbed the chain to stop the motion of the swing. Brittany stood up and offered it to Santana, who was scowling, and took it roughly, kicking off the ground roughly to start moving._

"_You talk funny." Brittany smiled, while she continued to ignore her. "I'm Brittany. What's your name?" Santana didn't say anything. "I'm 5 and half. How old are you?" She was getting annoyed quickly. "Do you like the park? My mommy brings me here all the time. It's my favorite place in the whole world." Brittany paced around the swing trying to get her attention. _

_Finally Santana started to slow down and came face to face with Brittany, who seemed to be intentionally torturing her. "You're annoying. Do you know that?" she looked directly into the blue eyes in front of her. Somehow the already beaming girl smiled wider. _

"_But now you're talking to me." she answered proudly and Santana couldn't help but smile at Brittany's flashing pearly whites. _

"_You're weird too," she teased. They giggled together for a few moments before their mothers came up behind them._

"_Well I see we didn't even need to introduce you two. You found each other already." Anna Pierce laughed sideways to her friend, "Maybe it was meant to be." They looked awkwardly at their parents standing behind them._

_"Honey this is Santana, and her mom Maria." Anna said to Brittany. The smile on Brittany's face lit up even more, finally knowing the name of her new friend. _

"_Mija, this is Anna and well I guess you already know Brittany," she said kindly to her daughter who stood close in front of her. _

"_Oh, well, hi," Santana remarked to Anna as well as Brittany who still hadn't stopped smiling at her. She sat back down on the swing and slowly swayed back and forth. Brittany followed and stood with her back against one of the poles, never taking her eyes off of her._

_The two older women began to turn around and walk to a bench not too far away when they were stopped by the sound of Brittany's voice._

"_Wait, can you take a picture of us?" Brittany asked nicely._

_Santana's head twisted to the side and she glared at Brittany. '__**Why does this girl want a picture of us?' she had thought. 'We barely know each other.'**_

"_Of course," Anna answered, "let me just go get my camera out of my purse." She walked over to the park bench with Maria on her heels. Santana heard her mother's low voice, "see I told you they would get along…"_

_Once they were out of earshot, Santana asked rudely, "Why are we taking a picture?" _

_Brittany frowned in response. _"_Do you not want to take a picture with me?" tears began to form in the corners of bright blue eyes, "What did I do wrong?"_

_A lonely tear drop slowly flowed down Brittany's cheek and fell heavily to the ground. Santana immediately jumped up from her seat and tried to comfort Brittany. The last thing she had wanted was to be blamed for making her cry. Santana tried to rub Brittany's back soothingly but she pulled away from her touch. She tried again to grab hold of her hand but once again Brittany pulled roughly away from her. Not knowing what to do, Santana thought about a gesture her aunt always did with her to make her feel better. Slowly, she showed Brittany her pinky and lowered it to link with Brittany's. Brittany didn't pull away but instead her face brightened. Santana breathed a sigh of relief when she started to calm down. Santana was confused why Brittany had overreacted that much._

"_Sorry, I just don't have a lot of friends. I really want you to like me." Brittany explained honestly. Santana could tell she was trying to avoid eye contact with her. She smiled at her admission, and squeezed her finger._

"_I do like you. You're super weird but I like it," she said kindly, "And I do want to take a picture with you, I promise." Santana had meant every word._

_They smiled genuinely at each other as Anna and Maria returned with the camera pointed at them._

"_Ready girlies? Get in close." She ushered the two girls together with her hands. Santana and Brittany tried to squeeze into the seat of the swing. For the first time, Santana didn't mind sharing. _

"_1-2-3- Say cheese!" A click indicated a picture had been taken and they stood up from the swing hurriedly._

"_Britt," it was the most natural thing to call her new friend, "get in the swing. I'll push you." Brittany eagerly jumped into the swing and Santana began to push her higher and higher. _

"This is beautiful. How did you make it so fast?" Brittany leaned in close so she could add in a whisper, "Did you stop time?"

Santana fought the urge to laugh. "I made it a few days ago Britt. I knew teach would give us time to make them in class since she loves to find ways to not do her job. I wanted it to be special. Better than anything any of these losers," she pointed towards Quinn and Puck, "would give to you. Even though it looks like I am the only one of your friends who thinks it's _nice _to give their friends a valentine." Puck raised his hands in protest.

"What do you want from me? I never make valentines. That stuffs for girls… and Hummel." They glanced over to where Kurt was placing a valentine secretly into Finn's pile. "See, point proven." Brittany and Santana laughed.

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><p>Quinn had finally risen from her seat to pass out the two valentines she had made. Making her way over to Finn's desk, she dropped one on top of the large pile. She saw a valentine from Rachel tucked neatly into the pocket of his hoodie jacket that was draped over the seat. She grimaced at the sight.<p>

Slowly, Quinn made her way towards her next destination. Once the kids in front of her moved out of the way, she saw Finn standing awkwardly at Rachel's desk. He was engaged in boring small talk with Kurt, who went on and on about how Finn should have passed out more valentines. Quinn saw Finn start to slip a bright pink card towards Rachel that was clearly dotted with hearts of all different sizes and colors. She stopped dead in her tracks and stared coldly at the scene in front of her. The grip she had on the card loosened slowly and it fell to the floor.

Xx

Santana tried to find Quinn through the mess of kids still walking around the room passing out their small love letters. After searching frantically for a few more seconds, she saw the perfectly parted brown hair obscured by a group of her classmates debating their valentines. When they moved out of her line of vision, she saw Quinn still locked in place, staring.

Santana was confused. She attempted to follow Quinn's gaze to see Finn sliding a valentine towards Rachel. She looked back to her friend and could see the hurt in her eyes.

'_That jerk!'_ Santana thought. Finn knew Quinn liked him, but he still gave Berry a valentine? '_Who does he think he is?'_ Santana decided to jump in and even the playing field.

"Hey Hudson," she shouted across the room succeeding in getting everyone's attention; Santana wanted a big audience for this. "Giving Berry a valentine? Someone has a crush on man-hands!"

Quinn finally snapped out of her daze and returned to Santana's side. The class erupted into laughter and teasing. Some even chanted, "Man-hands! Man-hands!"

Finn and Rachel both looked around, uneasy and embarrassed. Finn quickly moved away from Rachel's desk and went to sit in his own seat. When he walked past Santana's desk, he must have noticed she didn't have any valentines. He mumbled under his breath, "You're just jealous…"

"What was that Frankenstein? I couldn't hear you from way down here." Teasing him about his height was always a sore spot, and Santana knew it. The defeated expression on his face quickly was replaced by one filled with anger, and she smirked in triumph.

"I said you're just jealous, Santana. A little bitter no one gave _you_ a valentine?" He shouted at her, "Maybe it's because no one likes you."

A quiet came over the room and everyone looked around, unsure of how she would react. Everyone knew Santana had a short-temper, and nobody ever dared speaking to her like that. But something was different when Santana just shrank into her seat silently. She made no move to defend herself. Quinn stared sideways at her friend unbelievably. Puck shook his head and muttered softly, "Not cool bro." Even the teacher, who expected Santana to attack Finn physically, sat at her desk in silence, unsure of what to say.

"I like her." A voice broke through the silence, almost deafening due to the complete quiet. Everyone in the class, including Santana, turned to face the girl who made the statement.

Brittany stood up and walked over to Finn's desk and looked him right in the eye. "You're wrong. I like Santana." She slinked back to the seat next to Santana and gazed at her friend, still sitting, shocked at Brittany's actions. "And she's my valentine."

No one really knew what to say at that moment. Santana glanced around, embarrassed at Brittany's words, choosing to stare at the ground instead. That's when she noticed a valentine under Quinn's seat and slid it over to herself curiously with her foot. She picked it up and noticed Puck had made one for Quinn. She tucked it under her thigh while Finn prepared to speak.

"That's not what I meant Brittany. I mean no one _likes_ her. Like a boy." Finn tried to explain to her what he meant without making her feel dumb. Everyone knew Brittany was a little off so they took extra time to make her understand everything.

"I know what you meant, and I mean what I said," Brittany declared, finally sitting down in her seat. She shot a sideways smile at Santana. No one was going to talk about her best friend like that.

"It doesn't matter anyways Britt. Hudson is too stupid to realize that I did get a valentine." She held up the hidden valentine and directed it at the now-sheepish looking Finn. "Puck gave it to me."

Puck started paying more attention once he heard his name mentioned. He looked back towards Santana displaying the card for everyone to see. "But I didn't—" he was cut off by a sharp kick to his shin from Quinn. She raised an eyebrow at him and he caught on. "Yeah I made her one, I like her, what's it to ya?" he looked around the room at the many faces and gave them his most convincing glare.

Before anymore words were said, the bell rang through the classroom and all the kids scrambled quickly out the classroom door towards the playground. Santana remained where she sat and looked over at Brittany who miserably stared at her lap. Everyone else left the room, including the teacher. Santana stood and moved over to the other side of the table and leaned down so her face was level with Brittany's pout.

"B, what's wrong?" Santana asked with her voice full of concern. Brittany shifted her eyes to stare into the dark brown ones slightly above her.

"Puck didn't give you that valentine," She muttered dejectedly. "He made that for Q. I saw him start to hand it to her when she stood up. When he saw her put one on Finn's desk he looked sad and dropped it on the ground. Why did you lie to everyone?"

Santana glanced over at the card she stole from the ground. A sad expression crossed her face and she said softly, "I-I didn't want people to think I was lame. No one gave me a valentine. Nobody. Not Q. You didn't even give me one…" she trailed off and her eyes started to well up. Brittany grabbed her chin and turned Santana's face.

"I did make you one." She reached into her desk and pulled out a pink heart, decorated with little purple hearts. She handed it over and Santana smiled. She stood up and sat down on Brittany's desk so that she could read the inside. Opening it, she found a short little poem:

_San,_

_I could tell you UR 2 CUTE_

_But I know it'd be a lie._

_If I didn't know you already were,_

_I'd ask you to be mine._

_I could compare your smile to a sun ray,_

_And how it takes my breath away._

_Of all the things I could say, just know I love you, _

_Especially on Valentine's Day!_

_-Britt_

Santana read it a few more times and the tears that had built up slowly started to cascade down her cheeks. Brittany smiled and wiped away the beads of water with her thumb. She felt the skin noticeably get hotter under the pad of her finger.

"Thank you B. I love it," Santana whispered.

Brittany hadn't removed her finger from Santana's cheek and continued to stroke it softly. She noticed with each movement the heat increased and spread. Santana maintained eye contact with the bright blue eyes staring deeply into her own and saw a flicker of emotion she had never caught in there before. Brittany hadn't ever looked at her like that. Butterflies started to kick against the walls of her stomach.

Brittany stood up and walked in front of her, where she was still leaning against the desk. Her thumb continued to stroke Santana's reddened cheek. "You're welcome San. And I mean it, you are my valentine." Before she could stop herself, Brittany arched forward and placed a small peck to Santana's lips. It was small, but it was the most intimate moment either of them had had up until that point in their lives, and they both realized it simultaneously. Unsure of what to do next, Brittany started to walk towards the door.

"C'mon. Let go play tag with Puck." She exited the classroom.

Santana raised her fingers to her lips and stared straight ahead.

'_What just happened? We kissed? Girls don't kiss girls. It was friendly, just something best friends do. Britt meant nothing by it. But why had it felt so…right? No, she thought. I am not going to think like that about B, she's my best friend, nothing more.'_

She slowly started moving again and went to tuck the valentine Brittany had given her into the backpack next to her chair. The overhead lights caught the reflection of something shiny on the floor and Santana went over to investigate what caused the dazzling light. She stopped in her tracks when she found a small card on the floor, yellow and covered with sequins and glitter. The glitter formed the outline of a heart on the cover of the card. Santana smiled at the pretty design and opened it to see a short message written beautifully in cursive and in pink ink.

_Rachel,_

_Be my Valentine?_

_-Q._

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><p><strong>AN: About the Picture: It's a flashback, within a flashback. Inception ;)**


	3. do you believe me?

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Much shorter chapter than the last. I had a flashback written into this one, like the last one, but it got to confusing so I got rid of it.**

**Thanks, happy reading! Review if you care to :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p><strong>Age 11- Dance Class<strong>

"One, two, three, four." An elderly woman pounded out the steps with her cane instructing them with the beat. Heavy breathing escaped from every mouth in the room as they tried to follow their teacher. A mess of tiny girls moved their bodies quickly through the motions they had been practicing endlessly. In the back of the class Quinn and Brittany moved effortlessly and Santana struggled to keep up.

"I hate this woman," Santana whispered roughly to her two friends moving gracefully in front of her. She didn't understand how they could execute the dances so fluidly while everyone else tripped, fell, and whined; herself included.

Brittany turned to laugh at Santana, who slowly got back to her feet after a turn had sent her tumbling to the ground. "It's not that hard S," Brittany continued to dance smoothly while she spoke. Her voice showed no signs of a struggle and she came to a halt in front of Santana. "Come on, go through it, I'll help you," she encouraged with a smile.

Quinn had finished her portion of the dance and turned to watch Santana start to execute the simple steps in the beginning of the routine, "Yeah S. Let's see it." Unlike Brittany, her voice was heavy and labored. "You don't want to dance as bad as Berry looks."

She pointed towards the front of the room where a young Rachel, dressed in an extravagant red tutu, danced through the routine and attempted to add her own steps. She wasn't bad, in reality she actually was quite a dancer, but she never surpassed them in skill, however, maybe in enthusiasm.

The older dance instructor scolded Rachel and tried to stop her from crashing into the girls around her. "Rachel. Stop! Follow the instructions I have given you." Rachel pouted and returned to the instructed steps and a few girls around her laughed pointedly.

"Loser!" Quinn called up to the front of the room. Rachel glanced at her sadly. Quinn glared at Rachel, forcing her to look away, obviously scared. Quinn returned her attention to Santana as she was about to come up on the part of the routine that usually sent her crashing to the floor.

"Come on San, I know you can do it," Brittany said softly, earning her a smile. With a deep breath, Santana started to turn her body swiftly. She was sure she had it—until she missed a step and fell to the floor. '_Shit,'_ she thought as Brittany rushed to her side and helped her up.

"You almost had it." Brittany's blue eyes sparkled.

Quinn struggled to keep from laughing at Santana who rubbed a sore spot on her knee that had connected heavily with the hardwood floor. "Ouch. Maybe you should just stay down there S," Quinn remarked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Shut it Fabray," Santana said coldly. She climbed to her feet and shoved Quinn's shoulder. Quinn had a smirk on her face when she shoved Santana back and they broke out into laughter with Brittany. The trio continued to playfully push and shove each other until a loud voice broke through their commotion.

"Quinn! Brittany! Santana! Keep practicing! There's no time to screw around, we have a showcase in a few weeks!" The woman at the front of the room reprimanded them. They all nodded and moved back to their places.

"Don't worry San, I'll help you later with that part. No one will remember you sucked this bad." Brittany turned one last time to wink.

Santana scowled playfully until Brittany turned around; then a smile broke out on her face. She watched Brittany start to rehearse the dance and marveled at how easy she made everything look. Each move flowed into the next; it didn't look as choppy as she and even Quinn made it seem. Brittany had always been an amazing dancer; Santana recalled watching her twirl gracefully around the playground when they were little. Even then she made each movement more elegant than the last. Santana could notice a more refined edge to Brittany's dancing. Brittany took the choreography she was given and somehow made it look even more beautiful.

Santana continued to watch for several minutes before she realized the class was nearly over. She quickly tried to match where her friends were in front of her and began to mimic their movements. She wondered to herself if that's why Brittany's dancing looked more natural than anyone else's. Was it because everyone else simply mimicked what they saw and Brittany instead chose to feel the music and make the dance her own? Lost in thought, Santana twisted, losing her balance and crashing into the red head girl next to her.

"Hey, watch it," she shouted.

"Why don't you watch where you're going firecrotch?" she screeched back. The girl was obviously confused at the nickname. '_Of course this loser wouldn't know what I meant,'_ Santana thought to herself. "Whatever just go away," she said sighing and turning back to see the smirk on Quinn's face.

"Idiot," she muttered to Quinn, who laughed in response. Brittany shook her head at their exchange and kept dancing, tuning out the laughter between her two friends.

* * *

><p>"<em>Cause we're soarin'," <em>Quinn bellowed the lyrics and stepped back so Brittany could take the spotlight.

"_Flyin'," _Brittany threw both of her hands up into the air as she sang.

"_There's not a star in heaven that we can't—" _A pillow flew into the back of Quinn's head, interrupting their little show.

"Stop, please, dear god, stop singing," Santana begged while covering her ears with her hands. "Please don't make me listen to this damn song again." Brittany laughed and ran to jump next to where she was lounging on Quinn's bed.

After dance, they decided to have a sleepover at Quinn's house. For the first time, Quinn had her mom attempt to dye her hair blonde. Santana accused her of trying to copy Brittany, but when they saw the golden hue it came out as, rather than the yellow of Brittany's, the insult died down quickly. They watched in awe as all of the brown they'd associated with Quinn disappeared before their eyes and they met the new Quinn Fabray, the one who had completely thrown Lucy under the bus. Santana didn't really like the new hair color because she watched Quinn change another part of herself to fit some sort of mold the Fabray's had brainwashed her into. Quinn's older sister and both of her parents were blonde, so by default, she felt out of place with brown hair. But as much as it disgusted Santana, she couldn't say anything to Quinn's face. Especially not with her mom around.

Later, Mrs. Fabray ordered them a pizza and even let them eat it in her daughter's bedroom, also for the first time. Unfortunately, Santana had gotten bored with how slow the other two girls ate and entertained herself by throwing bits of crust around the room. Even after Quinn protested, she continued to spread tiny crumbs across the carpet. Eventually, Quinn's mother came up and noticed the mess she had made and took the pizza back downstairs, insisting that if they wanted anymore food they would have to eat it downstairs. Brittany pouted until Santana pulled a piece of pizza she had hid before Mrs. Fabray took the box downstairs and offered it her. Brittany hugged her hurriedly and grabbed the food, immediately starting to scarf it down. Santana laughed at her and settled in to watch a movie.

"I think we should watch High School Musical," Quinn suggested. She walked over to her TV and turned it on along with the DVD player that already had the movie inside.

"Please Q, don't make me watch it. I already had to suffer through it once for Brittany. And that was after she begged me for an hour," Santana pleaded with Quinn. But she had already pressed play.

"S, it wasn't an hour, it was like five minutes," Brittany deadpanned. Santana turned to nervously look at Brittany after she had just given her up to Quinn.

"B, it was forever. Don't you remember?" Santana tried to defend herself. Brittany started to shake her head no at the suggestion when Quinn laughed openly at them.

"Busted S," Quinn teased her, earning a scowl in return.

After the movie had finished, Quinn and Brittany continued to sing the closing song from the movie over and over again. They had switched to the CD so they still had music to sing along with.

"Santana, stop complaining. That's all you ever do," Quinn said pointedly, before launching the pillow back towards the girl lying on the bed.

"I wouldn't have to complain if you two didn't keep playing crappy music." Santana rolled off the bed and moved to look through CDs she had packed in her overnight bag. She shuffled through a few discs until she came upon a mix she had made a couple months earlier. Santana shoved past Quinn to the stereo and threw the High School Musical CD onto the bed replacing it with her own.

_I kinda always knew I'd end up your ex-girlfriend. _

_I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them._

"Who is this?" Quinn asked loudly while she walked over to the stereo to turn it down. Santana gave her a look of disbelief.

"Uh, _No Doubt_?" She flopped down onto the bed next to Brittany, who had started to pull different colors of nail polish out of the bag that was strewn at the foot of the bed. "How do you not know _No Doubt_?"

Quinn walked over and grabbed a bright yellow polish from the floor, "I don't know. I don't listen to them."

"Q, you listen to Gwen Stefani!" Santana said in aggravation. Quinn seemed even more confused.

"What does she have to do with it," she asked, starting to get annoyed. Brittany looked between her two friends with an even more baffled look than Quinn. Santana irritably rubbed her eyes before looking once more at the pair and shaking her head.

"Just, never mind," she muttered, clearly defeated. Brittany laughed, not really understanding why Santana was so annoyed.

"San, what color do you want?" she asked displaying red, black, and purple bottles. Santana grabbed the purple and found a magazine at Quinn's bedside to paint her nails on. Brittany settled on the black. She wanted the purple but was willing to give it up for her friend. All three started to paint their nails in silence until Santana spoke up.

"So Q, what's going on between you and Hudson?" she asked, not looking up from her hand.

"Brittany, be careful," Quinn warned her friend who opted to paint her nails on the bed, "I don't know, he gave me a note and asked if I wanted to go out with him."

Brittany noticed a hint of disgust in her voice. "Are you going to say yes?" she questioned.

"Probably," Quinn answered disinterestedly, "why not right?" she added after a few seconds.

"Are you sure he's going to like the new, blonde you?" Santana teased. "He seems pretty into Berry lately. Maybe brown was the way to go." Quinn scowled at her.

"I think you should go out with someone you like," Brittany countered and Santana nodded in agreement. Brittany smiled proudly.

"I might like him…" Quinn trailed off. She stared back down at her nails and started to draw little pink hearts on them. "I mean he likes me, so I think I could like him back." She started to shake her nails dry as she screwed the lid back onto her bottle of polish. After tossing the bottle back into Brittany's bag, she climbed under the covers on her bed. "What about you Santana, everyone's saying you and Puck are together."

'_That's ridiculous'_ Brittany thought, _'S would never go out with someone like Puck'_. Before she opened her mouth to voice her objections, Santana cut her off.

"Yeah we're dating," she said simply. "He's all kinds of sexy," she added with a smirk. Only when Brittany turned to give her a skeptical look, did the smirk falter off her face. "What B?" she asked nervously. Santana couldn't help but notice the upset look on Brittany's face.

Brittany stood up and started to lay out her sleeping bag at the base of Quinn's bed."Nothing," she answered curtly. She sat down cross-legged on her newly formed bed and started to scrape at the polish on her nails.

"Okay," Santana said, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion. "Anyway Q, I think Britt's right, you shouldn't date someone you don't like." Santana waited several moments for an answer. "Q?" Standing up, saw Quinn had fallen asleep. "What a loser," she added with a laugh. Brittany watched her face light up when she got an idea. "Let's draw on her with makeup." She lunged towards Brittany's bag and grabbed a blue eye shadow. Santana softly sat down next to the sleeping figure of her friend on the bed and started to apply a blue mustache to Quinn's face. "B, can you hand me the purple. She'll wake up tomorrow and think she has a black-and-blue eye, this is gonna be hilarious."

Brittany shook her head but went to the bag anyway and pulled out a purple container and slid over to sit next to the bed handing it to Santana.

"Thanks," Santana said quietly. Brittany laid her head back against the side of the bed and closed her eyes while Santana snickered at her handiwork.

"It's not fair to Finn for Q to go out with him." Santana stopped what she's doing, realizing how serious Brittany's tone was and slid to her knees so they were at face level.

"I know Britt, but she'll be much happier when she has a boyfriend. Don't you remember how happy she was when Mike and her dated," she answered with a smile. "Sometimes it's just nice to have someone…" she averted her eyes to stare at the ground.

"Is that why you're with Puck?" Brittany asked the question she was really getting at. She stared at the brown hair neatly parted in front of her as Santana kept her head pointed downward. She fought the urge to reach out and stroke her fingers through the long strands of hair that fell in front of Santana's face.

"I-I like Puck," Santana added quietly. Brittany laughed out, startling her so much that she raised her head questioningly.

"That was very convincing San," Brittany added with another chuckle. Santana smirked and shoved her playfully.

"And what about you, B? Who do you like?" Santana asked.

Brittany went to lie back down on her sleeping bag. "Nobody," she stated plainly. She laid on her stomach, facing Santana.

"You have to like somebody. There's not one guy that you think is cute or anything?" Santana asked in a way that seemed overly-curious to Brittany.

"Nope, no guys," Brittany answered, not give her anything to work with.

A quiet moment passed until Santana shrugged and went to set up her own sleeping bag. She laid it down next to Brittany's and slipped into it. Brittany got up to turn the light off and returned to her own bag when she heard Santana rustling around.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's cold in here," Santana said quietly. Brittany moved over to her bag and unzipped it. "What are you doing?" she asked quickly.

"I'm zipping our bags together," Brittany answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She drug her bag closer and attached it to Santana's. "There," she said and climbed in next to Santana.

They both laid their heads down on Santana's pillow and faced each other. They were so close Brittany felt the hot breaths escaping Santana's mouth and fall onto her cheeks. After a moment, she felt Santana shiver. She wrapped her arms around Santana's waist, pulling her closer. Santana's shivering stopped and instead she snuggled into Brittany's embrace. Her head rested in the crook of Brittany's neck.

"Goodnight Brit-Britt," Santana muttered sleepily before passing out. Brittany heard her light snores and leaned her head on top of the one burrowed against her neck.

"Goodnight San," she whispered before drifting off to sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: This chapter was a little of a struggle for me and I almost threw it out all together but there were a few ideas I thought were important so I kept it. Sorry I promise the next one will be much better, I have a lot more ideas for that one. Thanks for reading! :) **

**I also don't have much to do tonight other than a little homework so the update will probably come tonight. I'll make sure it's a good one as a repayment for this one! Unless you liked this one, then you're welcome :) Sorry rambling...lol **


	4. who are we now?

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: As promised the next chapter :) It's my favorite so far. Is that a little presumptuous? I don't care much.**

**Thank you so so so much for all the favorites/alerts/reviews. I checked my email early today and had nothing but when I checked it before I sat down to write this I saw all the new people following it and had the biggest smile on my face. So thank you for making me look like goof :)**

**Thanks, happy reading!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p><strong>Age 13-Puck's First "Party"<strong>

"B, are you almost ready?" Santana asked Brittany who had been held up in her bathroom for the last twenty minutes. "Quinn's gonna be here in like ten minutes!" She went to go sit back on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through her long brown hair that she had been straightening for as long as Brittany had been in the bathroom. She cringed at the light scent of burnt hair wafting throughout her room. She wore a tight orange mini-skirt, underneath a black and white stripped tank-top, that fit the lightly formed curvature of her waist. She needed to remember her gray hoodie before they left in case Puck forced them to go outside for some reason in the cool autumn weather. '_Better safe than sorry.'_

The door opened. Brittany came out wearing a maroon dress with tiny white flowers littered across the bottom hem. She had tied her hair back in a half-ponytail secured with a white clip and her bangs fell down across her forehead. The blue of her eyes was accentuated by a small amount of black eyeliner. She applied a thin line of lip-gloss to her pink lips while she walked towards Santana and tossed the tube onto the bed as she stopped in front of her. Brittany twirled around, so Santana could give approval on her outfit.

It took Santana a moment to think of something to say, "You look...hot, B." She was surprised by the words as they exited her mouth. "I-I mean you look nice," she mumbled, trying to cover her previous statement.

Brittany laughed at her obvious fluster. "Thanks San. You have to taste this lip-gloss. It tastes amazing." She leaned forward.

"B! What are you doing," Santana asked nervously. Brittany leaned behind her and grabbed the tube she had previously discarded onto the bed. When she stood up straight she offered it to her.

"Grabbing the lip-gloss? What did you think I was doing," Brittany asked with a laugh. She turned and started to assess her appearance in the floor-mirror next to the bathroom. After a moment with no response, she caught Santana's glance in the mirror.

"Oh n-nothing," Santana answered, trying to hide a blush that had made a home on her face. She opened the tube with panicky fingers and squeezed a small amount onto one before raising it to her mouth. Her tongue came out to meet her finger, tasting the substance.

It was Brittany's turn to blush as Santana let out a small _"_mmm_" _in response to the lip-gloss. She watched Santana put more on one finger and taste it again.

"Oh my god, this tastes amazing. Why would anyone use this? I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from just eating it straight out of the tube." Santana applied the gloss to her own lips and licked them over and over again. "It's like watermelon, but some kind of berry too." Santana laughed to herself and threw it back onto the bed. "Remind me to buy that next time we go shopping?" she asked. Brittany was still focused intently on Santana's lips.

"What? Oh yeah sure," she answered, not really sure what she had just agreed to. '_Hopefully she won't ask me about it. But I mean could she blame me for not paying attention. Anyone would be distracted by those lips…'_

Brittany shook her head trying to get those thoughts about her friend out of her head. "When is Quinn coming to pick us up?"

Santana pulled her cell phone out of her purse and opened it to check the time. "Uh, she said her and her mom would pick us up at like six-forty and its six-thirty-five so we should probably go wait outside."

Santana stood and walked over to her closet that looked like it had exploded after the two searched frantically for outfits to wear to Puck's first "party". In reality it was just a group of people hanging out in Puck's basement, but it was the first time they had been allowed to hangout with the promise of no parent-interference. She searched through the clothes discarded at the floor and grabbed the plain gray hoodie she had bought the week before. It fit her snugly, and happened to be the warmest article of clothing she owned. She pulled her arms through the jacket while turning to look at Brittany.

"Brit, do you want a jacket? It's probably gonna be cold if we have to go outside," she said to her, and Brittany only shook her head in reply.

"No, I'll be okay," Brittany added with a smile. They walked down the stairs, through the front door, onto the front porch, and waited for Quinn to pick them up.

Brittany sat down on the top stair leading down to the walkway in front of the house. Santana locked the door behind them; her parents wouldn't have their key, but she knew she would most likely be home before them anyway, and thought she might as well lock it. She went and sat down next to Brittany.

Brittany leaned over to crash her shoulder playfully into Santana's and earned a grin. She leaned over and laid her cheek down on top of Santana's shoulder. Santana wrapped her arm securely around Brittany's waist and pulled her closer.

Santana felt Brittany clench her jaw before softly asking, "S, where are your mom and dad?"

Santana tensed, and let out a deep sigh before answering. "Dad had some party for the hospital and my mom went with him. I guess they left around 4 or something like that." She felt Brittany's forehead crinkle against her arm.

"You guess," Brittany asked. The worry in her voice made Santana uneasy.

"Well yeah, I came out of my room earlier and there was a note saying they would be out and that they left money for me to get food if I wanted it. I don't think they remembered I was going out tonight," Santana responded flatly. Brittany felt her tighten the hold around her waist while she spoke.

"I'm sorry San," Brittany whispered sadly. She didn't know what else to say to comfort her friend.

Santana laughed lightly and leaned her head down on top of Brittany's. "Don't be Britt, it's not your fault. I don't care anyway."

Brittany heard the unconvincing tone in her voice. Before she had a chance to respond, a green van pulled up into the driveway and an eagerly-grinning Quinn waved enthusiastically at the two, motioning for them to hurry up.

The pair got up and readjusted their outfits. Santana reached down and linked her pinkie with Brittany's.

"Come on B," she said with a smile and led them down to the car. Brittany looked in and saw a disgusted look on Judy Fabray's face. She followed her gaze and saw it locked on their intertwined fingers. Embarrassed, she released the hold between them and climbed into the van and took a seat next to Santana.

Quinn turned around and gave them a flashy smile. "Tonight's going to be so much fun!"

Santana laughed in response and Brittany turned to stare outside the window at the passing houses. Every once in a while she glanced up to the rear-view mirror and saw Judy eyeing them suspiciously.

"We'll see about that," Brittany whispered to herself as the van rounded a corner.

* * *

><p>The party was already in full swing when the three girls descended the stairs into Puck's basement. A small group of people littered the different areas of the basement, some strewn across couches watching the TV, others played pool in the corner, and there were a few people gathered around a table set up with snacks and drinks. As promised, there were no parents supervising, and Santana smirked at the possibilities that laid ahead. She knew that people would act a little more recklessly and that was always cause for a good time.<p>

Brittany on the other hand was worried by the lack of an adult's presence. She didn't want to see what pranks the kids could come up with and also didn't want to deal with those awkward party games Santana's older brother had told them about. She prayed she wouldn't hear the words 'spin-the-bottle' uttered at any time throughout the night.

They made their way over to the table full of refreshments and poured themselves glasses of diet mountain dew—their choices were that, regular mountain dew, or water and they wanted to have a little caffeine in their systems.

"Wow, I wonder who invited Berry as a joke," Quinn stated harshly. She pointed over to the corner of the room where Rachel sat by herself. Brittany noticed how visibly uncomfortable Rachel seemed to be and sighed before slowly walking over to give her some company.

"Britt, where are you going?" Santana asked while she left without an answer.

Rachel's face brightened when Brittany sat down next to her. "Hey Rach, how's it going?" she asked with a reassuring smile.

"Hello, Brittany. I would like to say that I am thoroughly enjoying myself for being invited to this get-together, but so far not one person has talked to me and I am regretting my optimistic, albeit incorrect, decision to come," Rachel answered in one breath.

Brittany tilted her head to the side not knowing how to respond. "So...it's going...bad?" she questioned seriously.

Rachel sighed, "Yes Brittany. Very bad." She glanced over at the table where Quinn and Santana were talking in an animated conversation with Puck. "Sometimes, I just wish the other girls would talk to me. I wish they were nice to me like you are."

Brittany followed Rachel's gaze to her two friends and Puck, who slid his arm around Santana's waist, tugging her closer. A sick feeling took over her chest as Santana planted a kiss on his cheek. She had to look away when her chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight and she turned to give Rachel a slight smile.

"Don't worry Rach, I don't think my night is going to be any better."

Rachel looked at Brittany with her eyes full of confusion as Santana and Quinn walked up to the couch.

"Alright Berry, you have 3 seconds to get off this couch and get out of my sight before I tear you off myself." Quinn narrowed her eyes as she spoke and Rachel's face filled with fear, and also something Brittany could only describe as disappointment. She quickly scurried off the couch and turned one last time to Brittany, still on the couch watching the scene with a frown.

"It was nice to talk to you Brittany. I hope you have a nice time this evening," she said kindly, before turning and starting to make her way towards the stairs pulling out her pink cell phone covered in tiny pink jewels. "Daddy...can you come pick me up?" was the last thing the trio heard before Rachel was out of earshot.

"Q, you didn't have to be that mean to her," Brittany said sadly. Quinn and Santana sat down on either side of her.

"She doesn't belong here anyway B, it's better for her to leave. If you think about it, I probably just saved her from the embarrassment she would have suffered if she stayed," Quinn answered in a factual tone.

"But you're the only one that makes fun of her," Brittany added simply, "People only join in after you start it, you know if you—" Quinn cut her off.

"Brittany! Who cares? It's just Ra-Berry," she stumbled past the name, "she doesn't matter."

Santana watched the sadness grow on Brittany's face. "Q, enough, let's just enjoy ourselves," she said, trying to alleviate the tension between the two girls.

Puck walked up as Santana finished her statement, "Exactly ladies, so let's start the evening off with a little game," Brittany put her head down on her lap, "how about a little truth or dare?" he asked them, ignoring Brittany's obvious objection.

"We can't do anything until Finn gets here," Quinn demanded, looking around for the first time and noticing her boyfriend's absence. "Hang on I'll text him and ask him where's he's at." She reached down and pulled her phone from her pocket when a voice called out from the other side of the room.

"Not necessary. I'm here babe." He leaned down in front of Quinn and placed a quick kiss to her lips. He looked at Puck, "Why was Rachel on your front steps crying when I pulled up?" They could all hear the obvious hint of concern in his voice. Quinn chuckled cruelly, and Brittany frowned at her. Santana linked her pinkie quickly with Brittany's, trying to calm her down.

Puck glanced towards the steps, "Wait Rachel left? Why?" He scratched at the back of his head.

"It probably had something to do with the tongue lashing Q gave her," Brittany said softly, earning herself an evil glare from Quinn.

Quinn glared at Puck. "Why'd you even invite her anyway? It must have been a pity invite," she added harshly with a smirk.

"No, when I asked my mom if I could have people over she told me only if I included Rachel because me and her used to be really good friends. She said she had a conversation with Berry's dads about how she never got invited anywhere and told me no one could come if I didn't invite her. So I did," Puck answered with a weary expression on his face, "I didn't think she'd actually come."

Finn looked disappointed hearing Quinn had tormented Rachel yet again, "Babe, you gotta stop being mean to her. She never did anything to you."

"Why does everyone care about Man-hands so much? Can't we just enjoy the party now that she's gone?" Quinn said hotly.

"I agree," Santana said quickly. "She's gone, it's over, can we just move on?"

Puck leaned down to take her hand, "Of course baby, like I said let's play a little truth or dare." He walked away with Santana in tow to see who else was interested in playing.

xx

A few minutes later they were all seated circular in the middle of the basement. The group consisted of Finn, who had Quinn in his lap, Karofsky, Azimio directly to his right, Brittany, Santana who leaned against Puck and a few girls Brittany recognized from their dance class, but could not remember the names of.

"Okay well seeing as it's my party, I get to go first." Puck looked around the group in front of him and pointed at Quinn.

"Quinn, truth or dare," he asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Truth," she answered plainly. No way was she going to do some dumb dare that Puck obviously already had in mind for her.

"Hmm...do you like anyone," he asked mischievously. Several other people in the group groaned at him.

"That's a stupid question Noah, I have a boyfriend." Finn grew a dopey smile at her response.

"I know that _Quinnie_, I mean anyone other than your precious boyfriend," he asked with an edge. Brittany looked at Puck and saw a hopeful glint in his eyes. She turned her head to hear Quinn's answer.

"Umm, well," she trailed off and gave Finn a sympathetic smile before turning back to the rest of the group, "Yes." A blush crept onto her face. A chorus of _Ohhh's _went around the kids and Finn looked extremely pissed off.

"Who is it?" he asked her harshly. The random girls in the corner whispered furiously in speculation, adding a twinge of nervousness to Quinn's expression.

"It doesn't matter babe. I'm with you right?" she replied before Puck jumped in to interrogate her further.

"Who is it Quinn?" He questioned her and she turned and scowled. "Come on you have to tell us," he added after a silent minute.

Quinn looked angrily at him and yelled, "No I don't. You asked your question, I answered, now it's my turn." Quickly she said, "Puck, truth or dare?"

He smiled at her flustered expression and answered, "Dare."

Quinn had to think a moment for a good one. Finally, she smirked at him, "I dare you to go steal a beer out of your parent's fridge and bring it back down here and chug it." She laughed when he visibly gulped.

"That seems like two dares," Puck retorted, voice laced with indecision.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Aw, is Noah too afraid of getting caught," she teased him in a baby-voice.

"No, the Puckster is not afraid of anything." He climbed to his feet hurriedly. "Be right back," he said and quietly climbed the stairs.

They waited quietly and heard the sound of the fridge open and then being slammed abruptly shut. They heard yelling start to come from a booming voice they only assumed to be Puck's dad.

"_What do you think you're doing? We let you have a party and you try to come up here and steal alcohol? What, were all of you going to share it? Get back downstairs and I don't wanna see you come up here again until everyone's left." _The door opened and Puck's legs were visible at the top of the steps. _"And don't expect to go to sleep tonight until you have that basement cleaned!" _The door slammed shut and Puck slowly descended the stairs with an embarrassed look on his face. Once he reached the bottom of the steps, everyone erupted into laughter.

"Wow, good job _Puckster_," Karofsky teased and they all laughed even louder.

"Shut up," Puck said simply and rejoined the circle. Santana leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, muttering a quiet, "It's okay babe." Brittany stopped laughing immediately. Instead, she picked up her can of soda from the carpet and took a long sip.

"Yeah yeah, well it's my turn again." He looked around before turning to his girlfriend at his side. "Santana."

Santana smiled in response and he questioned her, "Truth or Dare?" She thought about it for a moment tilting her head to the side. "Hmm I don't know if anyone can follow that last dare," she said making Puck narrow his eyes, "so I guess I'll take truth?"

Puck rolled his eyes upward trying to think. Brittany guessed he only had dares planned, so all of the girls choosing truth made it hard on him. Suddenly his face visibly brightened and the grin he sported widened significantly.

"Okay _babe_, have you ever kissed a girl?" Santana's eyes grew to twice their size and she started to fidget uncomfortably.

'_Welp I know the answer to this question,'_ Brittany thought as she watched her friend struggle to answer the question. She didn't understand why she was taking so long when Santana finally blurted out, "No."

Brittany's jaw dropped noticeably and she couldn't help but send a hurt glare in Santana's direction. Santana noticed the look on her friend's face and tried to smile sympathetically.

'_Okay we never made out but we have kissed' _Brittany wracked her brain trying to figure out why Santana was lying to all their friends. '_I would have admitted it if someone asked me...wouldn't I have? Fine,' _she thought, '_if Santana hasn't kissed a girl, she will before this night is over.'_

Brittany leaned over to the hulking figure of Azimio, who was munching on chips while the others continued to exchange truth-or-dares. "Hey Z, can you help me with something?" He leaned over and nodded, "Will you dare me to kiss Santana?"

Azimio looked at her uncertainly and asked, "What? Brittany, why?" He looked even more puzzled when she leaned in closer and answered.

"Don't you think it'd be hot? I wanna try to make this night a little more _interesting_ for everybody." She winked at him and his face went from confused to thrilled when he finally understood what she was suggesting.

"Sure blondie," he answered, already obviously picturing the two hottest girls in their grade making out. "Next time it's my turn, you got it." He smiled at her and she grinned in appreciation.

After a few more turns, and Puck daring Finn to kiss Azimio (a dare both boys refused to complete), it was his turn and he quickly asked Brittany, "Truth or dare?"

Brittany smiled nervously, already knowing what her dare entailed. She swallowed hard and answered, "Dare." A few of the girls were shocked she made the bold move to take a dare; she was the first girl to accept a dare that night.

"Okay Brittany, I dare you to...kiss Santana." A few gasps were let out, the loudest from Quinn's mouth.

For the second time that night Santana's eyes widened drastically, "Wait no, didn't we just decide kissing the same gender was off limits?" Before Santana had any more time to protest Brittany had already closed the small gap between them. "B, what are you doing?" she asked shakily.

"My dare?" Brittany said, before crashing her lips into Santana's.

Despite the force behind the initial contact, the kiss was slow and delicate. Brittany could taste the mixture of lip-glosses Santana had applied and moaned lowly in approval. Santana was at first unresponsive as shock paralyzed her but, slowly, she let herself relax into the movements of Brittany's lips and started to kiss back out of instinct.

They both could hear catcalls as the group watched them go at it; some in disgust (the girls) and some in enjoyment (the boys). Santana's opened her eyes for a brief second to see a look of pure disgust on Quinn's face. Immediately, realizing what she was doing, she pushed Brittany back off of her harshly.

"What the hell, Britt?" she tried to add a hint of anger in her voice but was unsuccessful. She watched tears form in the corners of Brittany's blue eyes that had just opened slowly in front of her.

Brittany got up from the circle and ran through the door in the back of the basement that led to Puck's back yard. She ran to the side of the pool and started to sob heavily. The tears fell down her face and she tried her best to wipe them away, wishing no one would find her outside, that upset.

xx

Once her breathing calmed, and the tears stopped flowing, she stood to lean over the edge of the pool and ran her fingers through the water. Thoughts about the kiss kept racing through her head.

'_She kissed me back, even if it was just for a moment, I felt it. She wanted it too._' She rested her arms on the siding of the pool and laid her head down on top them. Had she imagined it? _'Not a chance.'_

Before long, the door behind her slid open and someone walked out across the leaves that had fallen from the large tree in the back yard. Brittany quickly wiped at her face once more to rid any evidence that she had been crying. She called behind her without looking to see who it was, "I'll be right back inside. I just needed to get some air."

A warm hand closed around her wrist and she felt herself being tugged hardly backwards and towards the side of the house. Before she knew it, she was being pushed against the side of the house and a flash of dark hair whipped her around and familiar lips smashed hard against her mouth.

Santana eagerly raised Brittany's hands to her shoulders and put her own on Brittany's waist. Brittany smiled into the kiss and squeezed Santana tight against her. Santana started massaging circles into her hips and trailing light kisses across her jaw. Once she reached her mouth again, Santana licked at her lower lip, asking for entrance, to which Brittany relented and their tongues met for the first time. Brittany ran her hands up and down Santana's back digging her fingers in tightly at her shoulder blades.

They kissed until their warm lips were raw in the cool night air. Breathlessly, Brittany pulled away and leaned her forehead against Santana's.

"Wow," was the only thing she could say to Santana who had not yet opened her eyes. Brittany noticed the worried expression on her face, "Tana? What's wrong?"

"Nothing Britt," she smiled as she finally opened her eyes to stare into the bright blue, "I've wanted to do that for such a long time." She leaned down to place one softer peck on Brittany's lips.

Brittany pulled out of Santana's grasp and walked away a little before turning and telling her sadly, "You lied." Brittany went over to sit on a swing that hung from a large branch on the solitary tree in the yard.

Santana trailed behind her and stood with her back against the tree. "What do you mean Britt?"

"Puck asked if you kissed a girl and you said no," she answered and stared up into confused brown eyes. "Which is a lie. I don't understand why you lie to our friends all the time."

"Yeah, but I don't lie to you, Britt. I lie to them because they don't need to know everything about me." She walked over and knelt down in front of Brittany. She looked nervously at the ground before looking back up in her eyes. "Sometimes I'm afraid of what they'll think if I tell them the truth."

Brittany saw tears start to form in Santana's eyes and she leaned down to grab her hand. "You shouldn't be San, it's stupid. They aren't going to make fun of you. Trust me, I'm pretty sure everyone of those girls in there have kissed each other," she turned her head and thought about it, "actually I'm pretty sure I've kissed every one of them." She watched Santana's face fall. "Not like what just happened over there though," she smirked and pointed to the side of the house.

Santana smiled and turned to look at the house, "Britt, will you promise me something?" When she turned back, Brittany saw the smile had disappeared. "Please don't tell anyone about what just happened. Can it just be a secret?"

Brittany sighed and squeezed her fingers. "Yeah, I won't tell anyone," she answered in a defeated tone. "Promise."

Santana stood up and motioned for Brittany to scoot over. "Let me sit with you," she ordered playfully. Brittany quickly obliged and they sat side by side for a quiet moment. Brittany shuddered at the cold night as a chilly breeze slid across her bare shoulders. Santana noticed and started to remove her jacket.

"What are you doing?" Brittany questioned as Santana placed the jacket around her, "Now you're gonna be cold."

"Nah," Santana said with a proud look on her face, "Hispanic. That means hot blooded." She pointed to herself and chuckled slightly as the smile on Brittany's face grew.

"Thanks," Brittany whispered softly, leaning her head against Santana's shoulder. Santana kicked the ground and the swing rocked slowly back and forth. They sat in silence and listened to the rustling of leaves floating across the ground as a calm breeze picked up.

xx

The back door slid open after a little while and Quinn came out to search for her two friends. She noticed them at the back of the yard sitting closely and as she approached them, but noticed they weren't sporting their usual linked pinkies; their hands were laced tightly together. She smiled at the sight and a wave of recognition swept over her.

The kiss, the pinkies, the hands. How had she not seen it before? Slowly the pieces fell together and she smiled more happily at them.

"Guys, my mom is here. Are you ready to go?" she asked loudly, feeling rude for interrupting the moment between the two.

Santana's head shot up and she nodded with a smile before releasing Brittany's hand. She stood and walked past Quinn to the open door. Brittany caught up quickly and linked her pinkie with Santana's. Quinn watched them exchange delighted grins.

Her own smile faded as she felt a pang of jealousy.

She looked down to her phone and scrolled through the contacts until she found the number she was searching for. She hit send quickly and held the phone to her ear listening to the ringing hoping for it to go straight to voicemail.

"Hello? Who is this?" The familiar voice poured through the small speaker next to Quinn's ear. Her stomach twisted at the musical tone in the voice.

She opened her mouth to speak but instead pulled the phone down from her head and hit the red end button, sighing to herself.

She put her phone away and followed her friends through the door.

* * *

><p>"San, can I sleep at your house?" Brittany whispered over to Santana, who was falling asleep in the seat next to her. She shook her gently and asked the question again.<p>

"Um, yeah sure Britt, whatever," she muttered as she fell back asleep. Brittany laughed and prodded her in the side with one finger.

"Well then you have to get out of the car sleepy head," she said, startling Santana awake. How had they gotten to her house so quickly? She realized she must have fallen asleep the second Quinn's mom had pulled away from the party. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

Brittany called into Quinn's window, "Thanks for the ride Mrs. Fabray." Judy smiled curtly and nodded her head in response. "Bye Quinn!" Brittany squealed and Santana groaned. The noise of Brittany's goodbye pierced her ears.

"Bye Britt," Quinn responded sleepily, "Bye S." Santana nodded, fighting to stay vertical.

Brittany grabbed her arm and slowly pulled Santana up to the house. She grabbed the key from Santana, who was no use getting the door open, and slid it into the lock. They walked through the door and headed immediately up to Santana's room, shutting the door behind them.

Santana walked over to the clothes still littered on her floor and grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank-top. She turned and tossed them over to where Brittany was standing. Brittany undressed and changed quickly before walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Santana tore off her mini-skirt and threw it to the opposite side of the room, reaching down to find another pair of shorts. Once she located them, she noticed Brittany was already back and starting to climb into her bed.

Santana crossed her room and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she came back out, Brittany had already started to doze off. She rounded the bed and climbed into the other side facing away from her.

Brittany became fully alert the second Santana settled in. She stared into Santana's back and tried to decide if she was sleeping or not. She got an idea and began to draw circles into her back.

Santana felt Brittany's fingers and became more and more relaxed. After letting it go for a few minutes, she turned over and gazed into Brittany's eyes. They were a lot darker blue than they had been a few hours earlier; she assumed it was just because the room was dark.

Brittany scooted closer so their faces were only a few inches apart. Santana wrapped her arm around Brittany's tiny waist and pulled her closer. Gaining some encouragement from this, Brittany bumped her nose into Santana's. The corners of Santana's lips turned up and she leaned in to drag her nose across Brittany's cheek.

Brittany tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and her palm lingered close to Santana's face. Santana brought her hand up to cover Brittany's and pushed it against her jaw.

Santana leaned in gradually and placed a light kiss to Brittany's lips. She pulled back slightly, not opening her eyes, and felt Brittany link their hands together.

Brittany watched Santana's breathing slow and assumed she fell asleep. She bent forward and kissed Santana's forehead. In a quiet voice she whispered, "I love you Santana." Brittany shut her eyes and matched Santana's breathing, breath for breath.

Santana opened her eyes once she felt Brittany's body still completely. She stared at the figure in front of her and reached out to run her fingers through Brittany's flowing blonde hair. She pulled the clip holding her hair back out gently and Brittany's eyelids fluttered.

"I know you do, Britt," she whispered quietly, "That's what scares me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Reviews are nice. Hey if you suggest something I might even take your ideas into consideration =)**


	5. i couldn't find you in the crowd

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: I don't have anything to say this time. Uhm...enjoy (:**

**Thanks, happy reading!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p><strong>Age 14- Cheerleading Tryouts<strong>

Quinn, Brittany, and Santana waited in a line that extended way out past the field gates. Hundreds of girls fixed their hair, chatted incessantly about their routines, and giggled with each other. It was their first day at McKinley High and the first thing on the agenda was to grab a coveted spot on the school's nationally ranked cheerleading squad. They had heard from the older girls at camp the past summer that Coach Sylvester was a bit of a tyrant but that earning a place in her good graces was the stepping stone to ruling the school.

Quinn didn't need any more persuasion than that. She quickly demanded Brittany and Santana join with her. Brittany, who had grown significantly in height that summer, was excited to have a new outlet for her dancing. Santana was more reluctant than her two friends.

"Santana come on, being a Cheerio," Santana snorted at the name, "lets us command authority. People will respect us." Quinn had spent hours trying to rationalize with her friend.

"Q, I don't wanna be a cheerleader. From everything those girls told us at camp it sounds like hell," Santana retorted.

"But think about it S. No one can say anything bad about us. It automatically puts us at the top of the proverbial pyramid." Santana saw the gleam in Quinn's eye as she spoke.

"But Q, you're always at the top of the pyramid. San and I always have to be on the bottom holding everyone up," Brittany trailed off with a confused look on her face.

"That's not what I meant," Quinn answered softly. She turned again to face Santana. "Please, S. It'll be fun I promise."

Santana sighed in response.

That's what led them to standing outside in the hot August sun during their lunch period. Brittany talked to the tiny girl behind them while Santana fanned herself in disgust shooting glares at Quinn.

"You know if you keep making that face it'll get stuck like that," Quinn teased. Santana gave her the finger and scowled. "Very ladylike, S," she said with a laugh.

Santana leaned up on her tippy-toes to see over the crowd. "This line is ridiculous. And from the look of it," she pointed to a crowd of crying teens walking out from the field, "Sylvester isn't taking that many people." Brittany returned to them and linked her arm with Santana's.

"Of course she isn't," Quinn answered, "She won't just take any of these losers." A few girls turned around to give her a dirty look. "Yes I'm talking about you," she said viciously into their faces. They got scared and immediately turned around and Quinn flashed Santana a satisfied smirk.

Brittany shook her head but kept her mouth shut. There was no reason to piss Quinn off so early in the day.

A long period of time passed until Quinn ventured through the gate and left them alone. They heard her loudly announce her name and position before several chants and cheers followed.

"Fabray," Brittany and Santana heard a loud voice they only assumed to be the coach's bellow loudly through a megaphone, "Go to the bleachers. Don't get too comfortable, you've only passed the first round."

Brittany let out a happy shriek before they heard Coach Sylvester yelling, "Next!" from the field.

"Get it, B," Santana cheered Brittany on.

A few minutes passed until the megaphone was heard clearly once again, "Impressive Pierce. Maybe this group of losers won't totally suck this year." Santana clapped once in joy that her friend had made it.

'_If anyone was going to be a cheerleader, it should be Brittany,' _she thought as she walked out onto the field.

She glanced up to the bleachers behind Coach Sylvester and saw Quinn and Brittany sitting together laughing and smiling. The second Brittany noticed Santana she couldn't help but stand and let out a _"_woo"of encouragement before being pulled down roughly by Quinn.

The corners of Santana's lips turned up and she smiled proudly before announcing her name to the woman seated in front of her donning a red tracksuit.

Brittany watched Santana begin her routine and execute each move flawlessly. '_It's a good thing we practiced yesterday,'_ she thought as she noticed the effort only she could see Santana putting into the routine. When Santana finished, Brittany stood again but this time clapped excitedly. Quinn struggled to pull Brittany down, but succeeded after a minute and briefly scolded her.

"Well Lopez, not the best, but passable." Sue pointed up towards the bleachers. "Go join your group of misfits." Santana climbed the stairs and sat down behind Brittany and Quinn. Brittany leaned back to sit between her knees.

"You were awesome San," Brittany exclaimed to her friend.

"You should have seen Britt," Quinn said proudly, "She was awesome. Coach Sylvester was speechless. She didn't even insult her like she did to the rest of us."

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's tiny frame. "Of course she was. My B's amazing."

The girls socialized lightly with the other girls on the bleachers while Coach Sylvester paraded through girl after girl, only waiting till after they had auditioned to tear them down. Some of them even burst into tears right there on the field. Santana guessed Sue had already filled her quota and was now just entertaining herself. She had to admit, watching the girls blubber was giving her a sick sense of enjoyment as well. Once the last girl had left the field in tears, Sue stood and turned to them.

"Alright ladies, I want to see you run through some drills. Try to prove to me that you're not simply wasting my time." She looked down to a clipboard and back up at the girls pulling a whistle into her mouth. "Let's go. On the field, laps." The high-pitched whistle blew. "Line up."

The teens rushed down to the track and lined up waiting for the signal to start. The whistle sounded again and the girls took off. Quinn elbowed her way to the front and stayed there. Brittany easily headed the pack but started to hang back when she noticed Santana staying near the rear.

They ran next to each other for the first half of the laps, but Santana was growing tired and struggled to keep up with the rest of the group. Brittany wanted to stay back with her but it was too unnatural for her pace and she would have had to walk to slow down enough.

"Get out of here. I don't want Coach thinking your slow cause of me," Santana struggled between breaths to whisper at Brittany.

"Come on, S. We're almost done," Brittany encouraged. Santana shook her head.

"No. Go. I don't need you feeling bad for me anyway," Santana said roughly.

Brittany finally sighed and ran ahead of her friend. It didn't take her long to pass the rest of the girls and finish out her lap. She waited by the side to watch Santana attempt to pick up her pace. She knew Santana was struggling and hoped Coach hadn't noticed.

"Lopez! Pick it up," Sue screeched through the megaphone.

"_This is fucking stupid. I don't even wanna be here,"_ Santana muttered to herself. She looked towards where Brittany and Quinn stood. Quinn was hunched over trying to catch her breath, and Brittany had her eyes glued to her. She smiled and mouthed to her friend '_Come on, San. You got this._'

Santana smiled and pushed herself to go faster. She felt her legs burning underneath her but stressed them further to pass a few of the remaining girls. She rounded the last corner and crossed in front of her two friends before coming to a halt. She walked the remaining distance to them and hunched over, convinced that she was going to hurl.

A soft hand rubbed soothing circles into her back. "Thanks Britt," she turned to look at Quinn who still hadn't caught her breath, "Yeah Q, this is _real_ fun."

"Well well ladies, no one puked, and that is what I like to call 'acceptable'." A few of their teammates groaned in response. "For now you are all Cheerio's." She gestured to the school, "Go to the supply closet in the gymnasium and get uniforms. If you don't find one that fits, you're off the squad. Tough break fatties." Sue turned and walked away.

"I hate her," Santana said as they walked towards the school.

* * *

><p>As they entered the room housing all of the cheerleading outfits a pair of upperclassmen Cheerio's blocked their path. "Names?" the older one asked with a sneer. She was a tall lanky girl with auburn hair that was tied neatly back in a high-ponytail.<p>

Not one to be intimidated, Quinn cleared her voice and spoke with authority, "Quinn Fabray. This is Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez." She motioned to her two friends. Brittany waved happily at the girls in front of her and Santana only acknowledged them with a slight nod.

"Fabray huh? So you're Frannie's younger sister," the blonde to the left of the red-head asked spitefully.

"Yes. Can I ask you your names? Or are you going to continue being rude," Quinn bit back and a smirk spread on the auburn-haired girl's face.

"Ouch, little-Fabray has some attitude. I see your sisters not the only one." She chuckled with her friend before turning back to Quinn, "Stephanie Pratt. This is Jenny Brown." She motioned to her friend. "Looking forward to having to you on the squad this year. Hopefully you can keep up."

Quinn narrowed her eyes at Stephanie, "Oh, don't worry. I can." She walked past them and started to search through the uniforms. Brittany and Santana awkwardly stepped around the still scowling girls.

"Way to go Quinn," Santana said to the girl who was already holding an outfit up to her body to judge the size. "Making friends already."

Quinn scoffed and turned to look at her, "I'm not gonna let some bitchy upperclassmen boss me around just because they know my sister. I'm trying to make a name for myself at this school." She helped Brittany pick through the uniforms.

"Whatever Q, you shouldn't mess with people who can make our lives a living hell," Santana said worriedly.

Quinn turned to look at her friend seriously, "Santana. We're Cheerio's now. _We_ make people's lives hell, not the other way around." She turned to grab a small uniform from the rack. "Here let's go change."

They went into the locker room and found lockers already labeled with their last names—all three in a row. Brittany looked at the card attached to the front and tried to memorize the numbers of her combination.

Santana noticed Brittany mumbling numbers under her breath and grabbed the card out of her hand. She looked it over a few times before spinning the lock opening her locker. Brittany smiled gratefully and started to pull off her tank-top. Santana opened her own locker and also started to strip her clothes off. Quinn looked awkwardly between them and grabbed her uniform before walking towards the bathroom.

"Q, where are you going," Santana asked. Quinn had her eyes trained on the wall and refused to look at them. Brittany glanced up and laughed when she saw Quinn had flushed red with embarrassment.

"Um, to change, in the bathroom," she said without making eye contact.

Brittany stared at her questioningly, "But we're changing out here?" She looked to Santana for answers.

A smirk spread on Santana's face, "Aw, is _Quinnie_ too afraid to change in front of everyone?" She added a chuckle and watched the anger grow on Quinn's face.

"Shut up Lopez. I just have to go to the bathroom and it's easier for me to just change while I'm in there," she said in a huff and turned to exit the room.

Santana laughed a little and zipped the side of her new Cheerio's top. "She's such a prude."

Brittany turned to look at the place where Quinn had just been standing. "Yeah. I guess."

* * *

><p>"Hello sexy female friends," Puck said as he slid into the seat next to Santana. Brittany had to hold back a gag at his vulgarity. She watched as Santana leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips.<p>

"Real classy, Puckerman," Mike said as he joined the group's lunch table taking a seat next to Brittany. He smiled shyly at her. "It's amazing you even _have_ a girlfriend." Everyone laughed, Puck included.

"What can I say? The ladies just _love_ them some Puckasaurus." Santana quirked an eyebrow at him as he spoke.

"_Ladies,_" she asked him angrily. Brittany laughed when his expression changed drastically.

"Trust me babe, you're the only one who gets all up on this," he covered, and once again Brittany had to stifle her gag-reflex. She turned to look at Mike who still hadn't stopped smiling at her. She tried to give him one in return but couldn't force it onto her face.

"Where's Finn," Quinn asked abruptly, "You guys all made it onto the team right?" She had a hint of worry in her voice.

"Calm down blondie, Finn made quarterback. Coach Tanaka kept him after tryouts to show him the playbook." Puck reached over to take a tomato off the salad Santana was barely eating.

"Hey! I wanted that," she complained. Puck waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh _did_ you?" He lunged at her mouth. Everyone turned away from them in disgust, trying to ignore the muffled moans and smacking of lips. Brittany heard Santana's intake of air and realized the worst was over.

"I didn't want it that much," Santana said and swirled her tongue around in her mouth, deep in thought, "But it did taste good."

Quinn shook her head at them and glanced back down at her salad rolling all tomatoes off the plate. Mike leaned in and whispered to Brittany, "Now I see why Puck doesn't have to be classy."

She turned to him and glared. Brittany stood up and walked away from the table heading towards the exit. Santana watched the retreating figure of her friend and turned to scowl at Mike.

"What'd I say" he asked dumbly.

* * *

><p>A few days passed and the girls fit right in to the school. Quinn was right that not one upperclassman messed with them as long as they sported their Cheerio's outfits with 'WMHS' emblazoned across the chests. Brittany and Santana had a few classes together, but there were others where Brittany didn't know a single person. She found that when she tried to introduce herself to other girls they took one look at her uniform and turned the other way. Such was the case in her last period. When she picked her schedule, the red-headed guidance counselor Ms. Pillsbury, who Brittany noticed fidgeted to rearrange her desk every few seconds, suggested she take a foreign language to better her chances of getting into college. As a result, Brittany sat alone in the back of a classroom decorated with maps of South America and phrases she didn't even want to try to understand.<p>

"Can I have the hall pass," Brittany asked the curly-haired Spanish teacher, interrupting his lesson.

"Brittany, I just started a new topic. Can't it wait" he asked with a sigh.

"No," she answered with a confused look on her face. She just wanted to get out of class already. She didn't understand anything the teacher said and she knew Santana would end up doing the homework for her anyways.

"Fine, but come right back." He went to his desk and pulled out a small rectangular block that read simply 'hall pass' in black lettering. She shuffled up to the front of the room, grabbed the wooden block out of his hand, and left the classroom. She had no intention of going to the bathroom but figured she could wander the halls until the bell rang. She walked past her own locker and tried to remember the combination to get in; Santana had been there to open it every time and she gave up with a frustrated sigh and continued to walk down the hallway. When she neared the main intersection of the front lobby she heard a rustling of desks from the classroom closest to her. She wandered over the door and saw that it was open enough for her to peak her head in.

Brittany saw Puck pushing a brunette up against the teacher's desk in the front of the otherwise empty room. His lips furiously met the girl's and she heard a tiny moan that sounded oddly familiar. When Puck moved his lips down to nip at the girl's neck, her face came into view.

Brittany watched Santana's eyes roll into the back of her head and whisper into Puck's ear, "I love you baby." Sickened, Brittany had to pull her head out of the room and ran towards the nearest bathroom. She crawled into the nearest stall and gagged a few times expecting to thoroughly throw up from what she had just witnessed. Quiet tears streamed down her face and she moved to lock the door behind her. She didn't understand what was making her so upset, but the sick feeling in her stomach kept her in place.

She finally slowed her breathing enough to stand up and leave the stall when she heard the door to the bathroom swing open heavily.

"Look Ra-Berry, I know I've been nothing but mean to you but I just want to talk to you." Brittany realized it was Quinn's voice and climbed up to stand on the stall so she wouldn't be seen. She chanced a look over the stall to see the top of Rachel's head staring into the mirror.

"Well Quinn, I don't want to engage in conversation with someone who constantly chooses to berate me in front of everyone but then calls late at night and hangs up when I answer." A quiet moment passed. "Yes, Quinn, I know it's you. I put the number into Finn's phone to see if he had it and your name popped up. Luckily I hit end before he had a chance to see you were my 'stalker' as he likes to put it. Which doesn't seem like an all that inaccurate description due to the amount of times you call and simply breathe into the receiver."

"S-Someone must have stolen my phone or something," Quinn stuttered. Brittany peered over to see the look of sheer panic on her friend's face. She couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the her attempt at an excuse.

"Really, Quinn? That's how you're going to defend yourself? You're holding your phone right now!" Rachel was clearly getting frustrated and another smile spread across Brittany's face.

"Whatever Berry, first of all that's not the point. Second of all, stay away from Finn," Quinn said with an edge. The next time she spoke, her voice had softened. "I know I have no right to ask you this but will you meet me after school? Just for coffee or something?"

Brittany heard Rachel turn on the sink to wash her hands and then quickly shutting the faucet off. "You're right Quinn. You don't have any right to ask me for anything. And as for Finn, you can't tell me who and who not to talk to." Brittany heard tiny footsteps move towards the door.

"You know if you we're a little nicer about it, I might have considered your invitation," was the last thing Brittany heard before the door opened and closed.

She waited quietly and hear a muffled sob from the girl still standing outside the bathroom stalls. After giving her a moment to collect herself, Brittany stepped down from the toilet seat and opened the door.

Quinn jumped at the appearance of Brittany and had no time to cover the tears that still rested at the bottom of her face. Brittany leaned back into the stall and ripped some toilet paper off the roll, moving closer to her friend and dabbing at the tear-stained cheeks. Brittany tried to give Quinn a reassuring smile, but Quinn just pulled away and went to look at herself in the mirror.

Brittany tried to think of a way to comfort her friend. "Quinn, I—"she began before an irritated voice stopped her.

"What," Quinn asked roughly. "Just get out of here, Brittany," she yelled and Brittany had no choice but to leave her alone.

Walking back to her Spanish class, she caught the backs of Puck and Santana strolling down the hallway. Santana was readjusting her ponytail that was sticking out in numerous placed and Puck was buckling the belt that hung open at his waist. He leaned down to kiss Santana on the cheek. Brittany felt nauseated again. Suddenly, Santana turned around and noticed Brittany standing there watching them. Brittany saw that Santana had caught the hurt in her expression and she ran to catch up with her.

"Hey, B," she said excitedly. She turned to wave at Puck who nodded his head and went in the opposite direction. "What's wrong? You look pale."

"Nothing, I just saw...Quinn in the bathroom and she yelled at me."

"What? Why?" Santana was aggravated quickly and looked past her, trying to find Quinn. "What'd she say to you?" She glanced back at Brittany who just shrugged.

"I don't know. It wasn't important. She seemed upset about something. Don't say anything to her." She knew Santana would go after anyone who insulted her, and that included Quinn.

Santana had a confused look on her face. "What does that princess have to be upset about?"

Brittany shook her head and started to walk back to class. "I don't know, San. Just leave her alone."

Santana was left alone in the middle of the hallway thinking to herself, _'What the hell just happened?'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So I know there's not too many people following this but I would like to get some input on an idea I have to do a chapter completely from Quinn's perspective instead of being centered mostly on Brittany & Santana. I want to dive a little more into that story to set some stuff up for later. **

**This chapter was originally gonna be much longer but I got tired so I'll add the next part a little later (pure laziness). The next chapter will pick up on the same day that this chapter is set in, just so no one gets confused.**

**Thanks for reading ! :)**_  
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	6. hold my hand as we fall

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else? (**-**After 6 chapters I feel like I may have spoke too soon with that.)  
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**A/N: This part picks up on the same day of the last chapter. So enjoy.  
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**Walking Through A Dream: Thanks for the feedback. I've always felt like Brittany has been the more 'promiscuous' one so I'm gonna try to explain why that is subtly. About Rachel, I also didn't wanna make her too submissive to Quinn's advances. Not yet at least ;)**

**Your Kaleidoscope Girl: I feel like I have a personal cheerleader for this story ! Thank you so much! :)  
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**Thanks, happy reading! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Santana caught up with Brittany after the final bell at their lockers. Brittany had the same defeated look on her face that she had when Santana left her in the hallway earlier.<p>

"Hey!" Santana attempted to announce herself cheerily. Brittany ignored her at first, still fumbling with the combination lock, but she gave up and sighed heavily.

"Can you," she asked Santana roughly, without bothering to look at her.

Santana knew immediately what Brittany was asking and spun the lock as quickly as she could. Brittany muttered a soft "thanks" and began placing books into her locker and sifting through to find the ones she would need for the weekend.

'_Why is she acting like this?'_ Santana thought with worry, _'Brittany is never upset.' _She reached out and grabbed Brittany's wrist lightly. Brittany's arm flinched away from her hand slightly and she felt the disappointment swim in her veins.

"Brittany?" Santana felt awkward using a nickname when she was so obviously upset. "What's going on?" Brittany slammed her locker shut in a huff.

"Nothing Santana," she pulled roughly out of her hand.

'_Now I know she's upset,'_ Santana thought. Brittany **never** used her full name when speaking directly to her. _'I'll just humor her for now. Maybe she'll tell me later.' _Santana had to hope it wasn't her fault. She didn't think she could handle the fact she had made Brittany that upset. After all, she spent ninety-nine percent of her time making sure nobody else did the same thing. If it was her fault, well, _'then I really fucked up'. _

"Okay, if you say so." She started to pull her own backpack onto her shoulders. "So, do you wanna come over and spend the night? I figured we could watch some Disney movies and pig out on ice cream. As a reward for making the Cheerio's this week." She smiled lightly, "We deserve it."

"Coach would be mad if she found out we were eating ice cream," Brittany said stubbornly, "didn't you read the nutrition packet she gave us?" Brittany hadn't actually _read_ the papers, but she looked at all the pictures of foods crossed out in red X's. Ice cream was definitely on the list.

Santana shrugged with a defiant smirk. "So? Nobody tells Santana Lopez what to do. If I wants ma ice cream, I gets ma ice cream."

Brittany smiled at her friend and couldn't suppress a chuckle. "You think you're so tough don't you," she mocked.

Santana linked her arm with Brittany's, finally seeing the girl she was used to, and started to walk them towards the exit of the school.

"No, no. I know I am." She flashed Brittany another toothy smile and they slowly made their way out of the school.

* * *

><p>"Girls," Brittany's mom called up stairs. She didn't hear a response.<p>

"Brittany! Santana!"

Still nothing.

The forty-something blonde woman slowly climbed the stairs and makes her way towards her daughter's bedroom. She heard giggling coming from behind the door and pushed it open slightly.

"Girls, I tried to call you—" Anna stopped dead in her tracks to take in the image in front of her.

Santana had Brittany pinned to the floor, straddling her at the waist. Both fingers were digging quickly into her sides. Brittany struggled and kicked like mad but couldn't free herself from underneath Santana.

"San-, please, Santana! Stop," Brittany yelled through giggles, "I'm gonna pee my pants!" She screamed finally catching sight of her mother, "Mom! Tell her to—ha ha—tell her to stop!"

Santana looked up to see the blush that was spread across Anna's face and ceased her movements immediately. She climbed off Brittany and took a seat next to her. She poked her finger into Brittany's side one more time. Brittany turned and stuck her tongue out.

"Hey! Stop for a second! I just wanted to tell you two that your father and I are leaving. We left some money on the counter if you want to order a pizza later."

She turned to look at Brittany. "Don't forget to tip him honey."

She looked sternly at Santana. "Do _not_ keep the money." Santana gave her a sheepish smile in response. She did have a tendency to keep the hefty tip the Pierce's always left to give the delivery man. Anna was smart enough to figure that out when their pizzas started showing up longer than the estimated time, poorly made, and sometimes even with slices missing. She had called to complain and was met with an explanation that their drivers we're never tipped adequately—or often times not at all.

They nodded in unison and Brittany's mother crossed the floor to kiss both of them on the head. "Be careful, don't set the house on fire." Santana saluted her. Anna turned with a smile but was stopped again by a curious Brittany.

"Hey, mom?"

"Yes?"

"Did you get ice cream?" Brittany smirked. Her mother nodded and waved a goodbye. She shut the door firmly and breathed a sigh of relief to herself. _'She was just tickling her. Calm down Anna.'_ She made her way down the steps to her awaiting husband who slipped a jacket around her shoulders.

* * *

><p>"Your mom thought we were <em>doing<em> something." Santana laughed to her friend. Brittany eyed her curiously.

"What do you mean," she asked, eyes full of confusion.

"She thought we were like, _doing something_." Santana stressed the last two words to emphasize her point. She watched the realization hit Brittany like a freight-train.

"No, she didn't." Her cheeks became a little pink at the thought. "How could you tell?"

"Her face was all red and her eyes were bugging out of her head." Santana laughed a little. "She thought I was corrupting her _baby_." She cooed the last word.

"Whatever, S. Do you wanna go get something to eat?" Santana noted the quick change in Brittany's demeanor.

"Uh, sure Britt." They walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Brittany opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. Santana had already pulled out the pizza menu.

"So, how about meat-lovers?" Brittany tossed her a bottle and took a large swig of her own.

"Uh gross no," Brittany responded ripping the menu from Santana's hands. She looked over the choices for a second. "How about six-cheese?" Santana faked a wretch.

"Nope," she tore the menu back out of Brittany's hands and looked once more over the possibilities, "Supreme?" She looked up questioningly.

"Wait, what's all on that again?"

"The only thing you don't like is the sausage," Santana answered knowingly. Every time they had ordered the supreme in the past Brittany spend more time asking, "is this a piece of sausage?" than actually eating her pizza. "We can order it without it," she added and Brittany smiled in agreement.

"Okay then." Santana smiled as she watched Brittany grab the phone from its receiver on the wall. She dialed a few numbers before a puzzled look appeared on her face. Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Brittany whispered, "They asked for my emergency. Is pizza an emergency?"

Santana spit out her water and raced across the room to grab the phone from her hand. She held it up to hear a woman ask in a frustrated voice, "Hello? 911. What's your emergency?" Her eyes grew double their size and she slammed the phone onto its base.

"Britt you called 911!"

"It's the only number I could remember," Brittany said quietly. Santana shook her head and reached for the menu to dial the number on the front. As she did so she pointed to the digits on the front of the menu and showed Brittany what she should have done.

Brittany knew Santana wasn't trying to make her feel dumb. Santana was always trying to help her out; she knew that sometimes _showing_ her what to do instead of _telling _her helped Brittany learn better.

"Yeah, one large supreme pizza. With no sausage. Yes I know that doesn't make it a supreme. It is really hard to _not_ put a topping on the pizza? Good. Alright, thanks." Hanging up the receiver, she mumbled lightly, "Idiots," putting a smile on the other girl's face. "So Britt-Britt? What are we gonna do now?"

"How long did they say" she asked nervously. Santana's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Uh like 35 minutes…why?" She looked for any indication on Brittany's face but found nothing.

"I just…"she started softly, "I want to talk to you about something."

Santana's heart thudded against her ribcage. _'Well that doesn't sound good,'_ she thought to herself. '_No one ever starts a conversation like that without it ending badly.'_

"O-Okay. What's up?" She watched intently as Brittany grabbed her hand and led them to the table at the far end of the kitchen.

"So you know how I saw you in the hallway today," she asked inquisitively.

Santana nodded as her pulse quickened even more. _'Oh god.'_ She mentally slapped herself in the head.

"Before that I was walking in the hallway and I saw you…and Puck…in the classroom," she finished and brought her eyes down to stare into the crooked lines in the wooden table. Brittany felt her cheeks burn red. She wanted to know what happened but that didn't make it any less awkward for her to ask about it.

"Oh, wh-what did you see exactly," Santana asked shyly. Brittany looked up and bore her eyes into Santana's.

"Please don't make me say it."

"Britt, it wasn't, look me and Puck really like each other." She looked around at anything but the blue eyes still attempting to stare into hers. "It's normal for us to do that kind of thing. You know?"

Brittany nodded solemnly. She wasn't the most experienced person as far as sex was concerned. Sure, she had made out with almost every one of her friends, boys and girls alike, but they were fourteen. Sex still had a magnitude she was afraid to conquer. She had thought Santana felt the same. After years of hearing about it, they shuddered at the thought of having sex. It all just seemed so _gross_ to them.

'_When had that changed,'_ Brittany wondered to herself. She finally snapped out of her thoughts and saw Santana was still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I mean I guess," she answered, still unconvinced. At least _she_ was still terrified of sex. But maybe Santana could help her get past it, like she had done with almost everything else.

'_Learn by showing, not by telling,' _resonated in the back of Brittany's mind.

"S," she asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Santana's head shot up and with a reassuring smile she asked, "Yeah?"

"Maybe." How was she going to ask this without creeping her out? She knew Santana rarely got uncomfortable, but this was pushing a limit they had only crossed on few occasions. Plus it was something totally new to both of them. "Maybe you could, you know, show me."

"Show you what, Brittany" Santana asked with squinted eyes. She didn't have a clue what turn the conversation had taken.

Brittany cleared her throat once before choosing to stare back at the table. "You know, like, what to expect…when I'm with a guy…"

The realization hit Santana all too quickly at what Brittany was suggesting. Her heartbeat, which had just gotten to a normal pace, raced faster than she could ever remember it beat before. She didn't know what to say to her friend.

"I don't know, Britt. That's—are you sure?" Altogether, she wasn't really disgusted by the request. After all they were both really hot; Santana knew as much. Brittany had a rocking body that she had caught herself checking out when they undressed in locker rooms or on mornings they showered after one another. Brittany would come out in only a towel and she couldn't help but stare a little—until she realized what she was doing and shook the thoughts out of her head. But to actually act on those _feelings? 'Were they feelings?' _She didn't know.

Brittany nodded once solidly. The corner of her lip turned up slightly, "I mean, why not right?" Brittany stood up from the table and sauntered off into the living room. Santana thought she heard the TV turn on, but was having a hard time hearing anything other than the pounding in her head.

Taking a deep breath, she stood from the table and walked into the living room. Just as she thought, Brittany had turned on the TV and was mindlessly flipping through channels. Santana could tell her attention was not on the screen though because when she entered the room, Brittany had made at least three _subtle_ glances towards her. Gaining enough courage, Santana walked on wobbly legs and sat next to her on the couch.

They sat in a brief silence until Santana felt a hand on top of hers between their thighs. She looked down to see Brittany rubbing gentle circles into the skin. Her breath only grew heavier when she glanced up to see blue-eyes fixed on her lips. Shakily, she scooted herself closer to Brittany and leaned to capture her lips in a soft kiss. It was slow at first but started to intensify as Santana felt one of Brittany's hands slide into her hair.

Santana pulled away for a second, breathing "Britt_"_ into her mouth. Brittany hurriedly reattached their lips and the kiss became hungrier. Santana pushed her onto her back with a burst of energy and began attacking her neck with small bites and kisses. Brittany let out a low moan at the sensation. She ran fingertips gently up Santana's spine through her shirt and felt the skin shudder under her touch.

On her way back to Brittany's mouth, Santana was held in the focus of eyes that had darkened considerably since they began. She raised her eyebrows to ask one last time if Brittany was sure. Brittany nodded and let her head fall back against the cushion of the couch. Santana leaned down and placed a few more kisses to her exposed collarbone, running fingers along Brittany's firm stomach, reveling in the smooth skin as she glided towards the elastic band of her shorts. She traced a line along the hem with one light finger and goosebumps followed in her wake.

'_Now or never,'_ Santana thought heavily. She started to move her fingers under the top of Brittany's shorts before a loud ring startled them apart. They froze in place. A minute of silence passed before they heard another ring and obnoxious knocking from the front door.

"Shit," Santana cursed. She stood up and ran fingers through her hair, nervously attempting to smooth her otherwise disheveled appearance.

Brittany watched her disappear into the kitchen and then through the hallway to the front of the house. She heard a low conversation and then the door slammed. Santana reappeared with the box of pizza and a nervous smile.

"Uh, pizza's here," she said, before turning and walking off towards the kitchen.

'_Wow,' _was the only thing Brittany could think before she stood up and fixed her own clothing. Only one other time had she been left speechless and feeling the way she did now. There was only one common factor between the two situations; _'Santana,'_ she thought nervously as she walked into the kitchen.

Santana had already pulled plates from the cabinet and was starting to set them down on the table.

"San, what are you doing?"

Santana unconsciously moved farther away from her and replied, "Uh, setting up plates?"

"We never eat at the table?" Brittany eyed her oddly.

'_Please don't make me go back to that couch,'_ Santana thought anxiously.

"I just thought, you know, it'd be a nice change or something," she answered Brittany with a shrug.

"Okay…" Brittany trailed off slightly before taking a seat at the table. Santana placed the pizza box in between them and selected the first piece. Brittany grabbed a slice and dropped it onto her plate. She scrutinized it curiously.

Santana glanced over and laughed. "B, there's no sausage. Trust me." She grinned and started to nibble on the edge of the pizza she held in her hand. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach and she found it difficult to swallow each bite. After two or three more small ones, Santana dropped the pizza to the dish and sat back in her seat watching Brittany eat. She loved the way Brittany's face lit up every time she ate another chunk of pizza. It was like every time she tasted something new.

After a large swallow, Brittany moaned in approval of the food. Santana's face burned immediately and that noise made the feeling in her stomach double. She coughed lightly to alleviate the awkwardness growing steadily in her body. Brittany's gaze drifted up from the pizza to her and she smiled. Her empty hand covered the one of Santana's that rested on the table.

"S, I know that was, whatever it was. But thank you." She stared mercilessly into Santana's chaotic brown eyes. A loose strand of Santana's hair hung in front of her face and Brittany brushed it back behind her ear. She felt Brittany's finger graze her cheek and couldn't ignore the burning trail boiling against her skin. She leaned forward and when Brittany realized what was happening she began to lean in too. When they got almost close enough, the table blocked them from moving any further.

Letting out a frustrated laugh and a smile, Santana lifted herself off her chair to close the remaining distance and placed a lingering kiss on Brittany's lips. Pulling back, she sighed and stood up to take their plates to the sink, ignoring the awkward feeling the whole way there. _'Do friends kiss friends,' _she wondered.

Brittany watched her stand and move around the kitchen. She sighed internally and walked towards the living room once again. _'I wonder if other people kiss their friends.'_

Her eyes moved across the shelf full of movies and debated what they should watch. She ended up picking _The Little Mermaid_, _Finding Nemo,and Beauty and the Beast _(she knew Santana would never admit it but that was her favorite Disney movie). She laid some blankets out on the floor and set up pillows against the edge of the couch.

'_No way am I getting on that couch again so soon,'_ she thought to herself as Santana entered the room with two bowls of _Cookies & Cream_ ice cream.

Santana chuckled as the _Finding Nemo _title screen played.

"Ice cream and Disney movies. Seriously can we get more cliché?"

She sat down on the blankets Brittany laid out and handed one bowl to Brittany, who stared at her in confusion. She just shook her head and answered politely, "Nevermind."

Shrugging, Brittany pressed play on the DVD remote and the movie started.

* * *

><p>Brittany trudged sleepily up the stairs. Santana had an arm around her waist, attempting to keep them steady, praying her own legs wouldn't give out and they would topple to the bottom.<p>

"I just, don't get it Sani," she started to ask, "if Belle knew the beast loved her why did she leave?" They had reached Brittany's bedroom and Santana guided her to the bed.

Brittany had started to fall asleep halfway through their third movie and they had missed the end of _Beauty and the Beast_. It wasn't like they hadn't watched the movie hundreds of times, because they had (mostly by Santana's request), but Brittany tended to forget the endings to all movies.

"She had to go after her father, B. He was sick. The beast knew that if he kept her there, she would end up resenting him for it." She rounded the bed to climb into the opposite side.

"So...he…let her go…'cause he loved her?" Her voice was low and tired, making Santana chuckle as she tried to decipher the words.

"Yeah, Britt." She smiled and pulled the blankets up to cover them both. They both closed their eyes and Santana felt herself start to drift off until a voice pulled her back into consciousness.

"Santana, I have to tell you something."

She looked across the bed and saw bright blue eyes staring at her through the darkness. "What?"

"It's about…Quinn," she said slowly, even more hints of her tiredness sifting into her voice.

Santana breathed an internal sigh of relief, _'Maybe this is why she was so upset earlier.'_

"Okay."

"I was in the bathroom earlier today and I heard her arguing with Rachel." Santana thought it sounded like there was more, but Brittany paused long enough for her to insert a comment.

"That's not all that weird. Q fights with the hobbit all the time," she answered with a laugh at the nickname.

"But Rachel was winning. Q just kinda stood there." She looked around as if someone would hear her before adding, "Then when Rach left I heard her start crying."

Santana paused to absorb the information. '_Someone had bested Quinn and it wasn't her? Better yet that person was Berry of all people.'_ "I don't know Britt, that's certainly…weird."

Brittany shuffled closer to whisper even quieter, "But that wasn't the weirdest part. Rachel said Q calls her all the time."

Santana looked at her in disbelief. "B, you must have heard her wrong."

Brittany huffed in annoyance, "I know what I heard."

"But Q…she wouldn't…" Santana started but was unable to continue her thought.

Brittany broke the tense air, "Look, don't tell her I said anything okay? She seemed mad I was there, I don't think she'd be happy if she knew I told you about it." Brittany raised a pinky in the air. "Promise?"

Santana squinted in the dark room and saw the distress painted across Brittany's face.

"Yeah I won't say anything." She met her pinky and squeezed them together tightly. "Promise."

Relief washed over Brittany's expression and she reached down to tug Santana closer. Santana relaxed into her hold and allowed herself to mold lightly into Brittany's body. Brittany laid a soft kiss to the top of Santana's head. "I love you, S" she muttered softly.

Santana twisted so she could look up into Brittany's face. She looked so serene, almost asleep, and Santana couldn't help but quietly reply, "I love you too, B."

They fell asleep with content smiles on their faces.

* * *

><p>Rachel kissed her fathers goodnight on their cheeks and slowly started to climb the stairs. After a long day of school, followed by a dance lesson, she couldn't wait to burrow into her bed and drift off into a peaceful night of sleep.<p>

After making it a few steps up, the doorbell rang. She looked at her dads questioningly and asked, "Were you two expecting anyone?" They turned and exchanged a look before returning their gaze to Rachel and shaking their heads no.

She descended the stairs and hesitantly walked towards the front door. _'I told Daddy to install a peep hole. Then I wouldn't have to worry about a criminal demanding entry into our house,' _she thought as she stopped in front of the door. She placed an ear to the wood before calling out loudly, "Who is it?"

"Rach, just…open the door please." Stunned by the voice she slowly unlocked the door and faced her visitor.

Her father, Hiram, asked from the couch, "Who is it?"

Rachel stared out onto the porch and watched a breeze blow long blonde strands of hair across a face set with dark-hazel eyes staring directly into her own.

"What are you doing here, Quinn?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Am I allowed to be that predictable? Don't care.**

**Just cause I feel like it needs to be said Quinn is gonna have the hardest time out of everyone. So be ready for a lot of angst on that part. She's always been my favorite character in terms of "development" I guess is how to say it. Out of everyone on the show I want her to end up the happiest. For my part, I'm not gonna let it be easy lol**

**So after that little spiel, I'll have another update for you guys in a few days. Maybe tomorrow even if I get the time:) **


	7. was it our fault?

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?  
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**A/N: Once again picking up from the last chapter. I hate cliffhangers but that last one needed to happen to change this one so it could be told more through Rachel's eyes.  
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**Thank you again to everyone who has this favorited or on story alert. It means so much that people actually wanna read my first one:) You don't have to but review cause I like to hear what you guys have to say about how things are happening or whatever.  
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**Thanks, happy reading! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p><em>Her father, Hiram, asked from the couch, "Who is it?"<em>

_Rachel stared out onto the porch and watched a breeze blow long blonde strands of hair across a face set with dark-hazel eyes staring directly into her own._

_"What are you doing here, Quinn?"_

"Ber-Rachel, I just…need to talk to you." Quinn looked at Rachel through tear-brimmed eyes.

"You can't be here," Rachel said with a wobble in her voice. Quinn noticed she didn't say it with any anger but a hint of worry. She decided to press on anyway.

"Look, I knew if I asked you to hang out you would say no, but I figured if I surprised you, you wouldn't have a chance to—" The sound of footsteps nearing the door stopped her from continuing her jumbled mess of words.

"Rachel, your father asked you who was here." A booming male voice came around the corner and a tall black man stood next to Rachel.

Upon seeing Quinn on the porch, his forehead creased and he clenched his jaw tight. "What are _you_ doing here?" Rachel watched Quinn visibly flinch at his scathing remark.

"I-I just I-I wanted to..."

"I'm sorry, Quinn. You need to leave," he asserted more firmly, placing an arm around Rachel's shoulder.

Quinn stood rooted to the ground pleading with her eyes to Rachel, who could only give her a sympathetic smile.

"Good night," he said finally and shut the door, hard. It shook Quinn out of her daze enough for her to turn and walk away from the house.

As she walked away, she brushed away the single tear that started to fall down her cheek.

* * *

><p>Rachel looked up at her father with a disappointed glare and said softly, "You didn't have to be that mean to her."<p>

Leroy laughed mockingly and went back to his seat in the living room. "She should be happy all I did was send her away. After everything she's done to you over the years…" He trailed off as he sat next to his husband on the couch who was looking between them with curious eyes.

"Who was at the door, honey," Hiram Berry asked.

"It was Quinn, daddy. Quinn Fabray." Her voice was stained with anguish.

"Quinn…Fabray…was at our door," he questioned full of surprise, "Well what did she want?"

"I wouldn't know. Dad shut the door before I got a chance to figure that out." She leered at Leroy and he shook his head in frustration.

"Rachel, I just don't think you should spend time around her." He paused to look at Hiram and continued, "Not after what happened."

_Rachel knew exactly what he was talking about. Quinn and her actually were very good friends up until around 3rd grade. They had met in kindergarten and had an instant friendship. Rachel was crying because Noah Puckerman was teasing her as usual when Quinn, at that time still Lucy, came up and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. She was shocked and immediately leaned down to check if Puck was okay. Rachel glared up at Quinn who seemed equally shocked._

"_Why are you helping him," Quinn asked her, while she tried to help a tiny Noah to his feet._

"_I think I should be asking you why you hit him," she stated firmly back. _

"_Cause he was teasing you? No one deserves to be teased," Quinn answered, still with a confused look on her face. "Why did you help him?"_

"_I don't think anyone deserves to be hit." A smile sprung up on her face and a similar one appeared on Quinn's. "I'm Rachel." She stuck out her hand._

"_I'm Lucy." Quinn grabbed her hand and shook it lightly. _

_After that, they were inseparable. When they were in school the teachers had to basically pry them apart for naptime. They were over each other's houses every night and even slept over on the weekends. _

_It continued up until a day towards the end of third grade when Quinn's mother Judy had to go to her weekly bridge game and Russell, Quinn's father, had to pick up his daughter at the Berry residence. He pulled up in front of the house and walked stiffly to the front door before ringing the bell. When Quinn had looked out the window and noticed it was her father and not her mother picking her up, she quickly straightened her clothing and brushed the loose hairs out of her face, all the while Rachel watched her curiously. She laughed at Quinn's behavior and walked over to open the door for Russell. _

"_Hello, Mr. Fabray. I'm Rachel." She held out her hand and he shrugged it off. Rachel recognized the rejection but kept a smile on her face. Even if it was a little discouraging Quinn's father didn't want to know her._

"_Hi Rachel, is your mother here? I'd like to have a word with her about the carpool situation," he asked with a forced smile. Quinn had finally made her way to the door and look nervously at her father. _

"_I don't have a mother," Rachel said with complete confidence and noticed Quinn start to tremble._

"_What do you mean you don't have a mother" he asked pointedly and his eyes drifted up to see the two Berry men walking towards the door. Rachel watched Quinn's father's expression morph into one of pure disgust._

"_Lucy_, _let's go. Now." He grabbed her roughly by the arm._

_Leroy and Hiram had just made their way to the doorway. "Hello, you must be Russell. Judy has mentioned you a few times." Hiram extended his hand to a grimacing Russell. _

"_I don't think pleasantries will be needed," Russell replied back, "Lucy will not be coming over here again." He gripped his daughter's arm tighter and pulled her off the porch. _

_Leroy stepped out after him and asked, "Wait why?" _

_Rachel silently observed the scene and tried to make eye contact with an even more silent Quinn._

_Russell turned slowly and stared with dark eyes at Leroy._

_"I would not like for my daughter to be corrupted by the likes of people like __**you.**__" _

_Rachel couldn't help but cringe at the menacing tone in his voice. Hiram wrapped his arm around her protectively._

"_What do you mean…people like __**us**__?"_

_Rachel had never heard her daddy sound so cold and vicious._

"_I think you know exactly what I mean." The venom seeped into his voice._

_Hiram stepped forward to place a restricting hand on Leroy's shoulder. He could feel a pull that scared him a fight was about to start in their front yard._

"_I think you should leave." _

"_Gladly." Russell stormed away with Quinn in tow. "Don't think you're ever coming back here." He directed his last statement into her scared hazel eyes that were trying so desperately to control tears from spilling down her pale face._

_Before Rachel knew it, Quinn was ignoring her in school and refused to sit with her at lunch. When she would walk by her, Quinn would simply strike up a conversation with whoever was closest and ignore that Rachel was even standing there. Eventually, Rachel stopped trying and they both pretended the other didn't exist. That was until high school, when the slushies started._

Rachel stomped her foot in irritation. "That wasn't her fault! You can't blame her for what her father did!"

Leroy stood to reclaim the power in the conversation, "Look I know you always look for the best in people honey, but anyone raised by that Russell character is bad news."

"Quinn's not like her father."

"Is that why you come home wearing stained sweaters?" he asked sharply. Rachel looked fiercely at her father and huffed.

"She's not like him," Rachel yelled back.

Hiram went and stood between them; they were only a foot apart and clearly fuming.

"You came home crying every day the first week of school," Leroy retorted, "And do you remember who you said started it? Because I do. And so does your daddy." Leroy encouraged his husband for support.

"Maybe if you and Mr. Fabray hadn't separated us she would still be nice to me!" Rachel tried to fight the tears threatening to fall down her face. "This is your fault!" She threw her index finger into her father's face.

"You will not talk to me like that," he shouted at her, and Hiram and Rachel both jumped. They were used to him arguing with waiters, on the phone with clients, and to animals that insisted on eating the food growing in his garden, but never with either of them.

The tears finally started gliding down her face. She was startled at first but quickly grabbed back a hold of her anger.

"I'm going to my room. Don't follow me," she instructed firmly. Her fathers nodded. If there was one thing she loved about them, it was that if she asked to be alone, regardless of the circumstances, they wouldn't dare cross that boundary.

That was the first night she ever took advantage of it.

* * *

><p>After she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, Rachel shut the door and locked it behind her. She looked around her room for something to protect her from the cold. Selecting a thick wool coat and tying a scarf around her neck, she slipped into a pair of gym shoes tucked neatly behind her elliptical and walked slowly to the window. After opening it silently, she swiftly put both feet out and into the ridges of the trellis on the outside wall. She dropped down to the ground once she got close enough and sneaked to the front yard, careful to avoid the bunches of leaves that crackled noisily under her feet.<p>

'_What had Quinn wanted to talk about?' _

Rachel's thoughts filled with apologies, insults, and the other hundreds of possibilities it could have been. She neared the sidewalk and started to walk at a slow pace along it, not really sure where she was heading.

At the end of the street, Rachel looked left and right, trying to decide which way to turn. The nagging feeling in her stomach told her to go left, but since it was also telling her to go home, she ignored it and went right. To her surprise, halfway down the new street, she saw a huddled figure sitting on the curb. A car drove by slowly and the headlights lit up the flowing blonde hair that fell around the girl's legs. Rachel didn't have to guess who it was.

When she was two feet away from Quinn, who was sobbing profusely, she stepped onto a pile of leaves that crunched under her feet. Startled, Quinn turned around and saw Rachel standing there. Her hands rushed to either side of her face, brushing away the tear tracks along her cheeks.

"Quinn," Rachel asked softly, "What's wrong?" She walked slowly over and was surprised when Quinn stood up and stormed away.

"Quinn," Rachel tried again before she got too far away. When Quinn's steps faltered, Rachel had a little hope, but the girl continued away at a faster pace. Rachel decided to run after her and when she grabbed a hold of her arm, she wheeled around, glaring.

"What, Berry," she growled. Surprisingly, she didn't tug out of Rachel's grip.

Rachel stumbled over her words, "I-I just…why did you come to my house, Quinn?"

Quinn huffed and turned on her heels one more time and landed a few heavy steps before rushing back, "Look just forget it okay. If anyone asks, I wasn't there. Or here. Or anywhere." She walked away again.

Rachel looked around unsure of how to get her to stay. She was confused as to why she felt the need to make her stay, but she wanted desperately to know why Quinn came over to her house at ten o'clock on a Friday night.

"Please…just…please don't leave." Her words flew through the cold night and she didn't think Quinn had even heard her.

But Quinn stopped short and Rachel watched her take in and let out a deep breath. Quinn wheeled around towards her. Instead of stopping next to her, she went and sat back on the curb. After a few unsure seconds, Rachel walked over and sat down next to her.

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever to Rachel and she finally asked impatiently, "So are we going to talk or did you just want me to freeze to death out here?"

Quinn fought a laugh and smiled at her. "You know you're really annoying right?"

Rachel glared. "So you came over to insult me. Great," she started to stand, "Well, goodnight, Quinn. I hope you enjoyed yourself." Quinn grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

"Sit down, I was just kidding." Well, she wasn't really kidding. Rachel had a tendency to annoy anyone and everyone by filling every second with her insufferable chatter. And as much as it made Quinn want to invest in ear plugs, she also had a strange fascination with the babbling. She liked to hear what Rachel had to say and what ideas went through her head on a daily basis.

She knew she would never admit that to anyone.

"I don't really see how that is funny. You run hot and cold with me and I don't understand it. You find me when I'm alone and beg me to talk to you, but when I come up to you, I get attacked and often punished with a slushy to the face." She hadn't meant to unload everything at once but Rachel felt like she would never get another chance to express her feelings.

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"And further—wait what did you say?" Her mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. She didn't know what was more surprising, that Quinn had apologized, or that she called her Rachel without stumbling.

"I said I was sorry." Quinn looked back out onto the dark street and watched a few leaves blow across the pavement. "You don't deserve anything that happens to you. And it's my fault."

"You're apologizing?" She had imagined that was the reason Quinn had come over, but had also chalked it up to false hope.

Quinn nodded her head solemnly and wiped away a tear that Rachel guessed had fallen during her apology.

"I don't understand." Rachel scrunched her eyebrows together in a way that made Quinn laugh again.

"You wouldn't would you?" She paused to look back at Rachel. "As obvious as I am, you still can't figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

"Rach," Rachel cringed because Quinn hadn't called her that since, well, that day, "I miss you sometimes." She paused. "No scratch that, I miss you all the time. It's not fair what happened to us."

Rachel nodded silently before adding, "No, no it wasn't. But that still doesn't explain how you treat me."

"I don't mean to treat you that way. I just don't know any other way to push you away." Quinn clamped her mouth shut. _'Wow, did I really just say that out loud?'_

"Push-me-away? Why would you need to push me away? We were best friends." She looked away out into the street, "At least _I_ thought we were." She felt a hand clasp around her wrist and glanced down to see a pale hand encircling it.

"We were Rachel, don't ever doubt that. Please. If there's one thing you can do for me it's to never question that we were friends. I wish everything was still the same." Rachel saw tears start to form in her eyes again.

"Quinn," she started softly, "everything could still be the same. We could go right back to that."

"No we can't! Don't you see that? Nothing will be like it used to," she answered hurriedly trying to fight the tears away for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"I don't understand you! You come over to my house trying to apologize, and then when you finally do, you tell me that there isn't a chance for us to fix any of it. Why did you even do this?" Rachel's tone was full of irritation.

Quinn put her head down and rested her forehead against her knee. "Because Rachel, I don't want you to think I hate you when I don't. I still care about you."

"You have a funny way of showing it. Am I supposed to think those ice baths are really showers of love and caring?" Rachel wanted suppress her laughter—from her choice of words—but was unable to stop a chuckle from escaping her mouth.

Quinn watched her laugh in confusion, before realizing what she had actually said. Quinn's face broke out into a tiny smile and they stared at each other in silence before Rachel spoke up.

"I miss you too, Quinn. I'll never understand why you did what you did, or _do_ I guess, but you'll always be important to me." She reached out and took Quinn's hand in her own. Gently, she ran her thumb across Quinn's knuckles.

Their eyes met and for a moment, they held each other's gaze. Before she could stop herself, Quinn leaned in close and forced her lips onto Rachel's in a soft lingering kiss. She felt a soft push to her chest and broke away to see Rachel's stunned expression. Rachel sat still.

Unsure of what to say, Quinn asked simply, "Rachel?"

Before another word was said, Rachel jumped up and walked hurriedly away from Quinn, who had not yet moved from her place on the curb. She stood once it registered in her brain that Rachel was no longer sitting next to her.

She called once more, "Rachel!" before she disappeared around the corner on the way back to her house.

* * *

><p>Quinn slipped silently through her bedroom window and closed it just as quietly. She walked over to her door and unlocked it, slipped off her jacket and placed it on a hanger sticking out from the back of the door.<p>

She kicked off her shoes and jumped onto her bed without bothering to remove her clothes. Staring at her ceiling, she counted the tiny dots scattered across it. After a few minutes of that, she rolled over onto her stomach and pulled her phone out of her hoodie pocket. She looked through the contacts trying to figure out who to text.

'_Finn,'_ she thought first but pushed the idea aside knowing he would be sleeping or playing xbox. She loved her boyfriend, but he was never dependable.

Next, she scrolled down until she found Santana's number. _'No she's with Brittany and I don't want to bother them. They don't need my problems.'_

She dropped her phone to the bed and pushed her head face first into the nearest pillow. It smelled faintly of lavender. Her mother must have washed it while she was at school. She breathed in as much as she could and the scent distracted her from her thoughts for a while.

Sighing, Quinn picked up her phone once more and scrolled to the number she knew she should have avoided; or better yet should have deleted all together. She opened a new message and typed out a small apology.

**(10:44 PM):** I'm sorry Rach.

Almost instantly she felt her phone buzz in her hand.

**(10:45 PM)** **Rachel: **What happened tonight Quinn?

She shook nervously, typing explanation after explanation out but nothing seemed like quite enough. She erased everything and wrote out something before throwing the phone onto the bed next to her and burying her face in the pillow.

**(10:52 PM): **Look, just don't tell anyone what happened.

A long amount of time passed before she got a response and she figured Rachel had fallen asleep. She knew she wouldn't be sleeping for a while that night. After what seemed like hours, her phone vibrated, shaking her bed slightly and she reached down to open the new text.

**(11:43 PM) Rachel: **I won't.

With that, she shut her phone and plugged it in on the bedside table. Quinn climbed under her blankets and her thoughts raced about Rachel. She wondered if she would tell anyone. She wondered if on Monday everyone she knew would avoid her and a slushy would come crushing into her face for the first time. In some way she wished it would. She felt like she deserved it after everything she had put her former best friend through.

Quinn sighed heavily before turning onto her side facing the window that looked out over the street.

Most of all she wondered if another kiss would ever feel as good as the brief one she had just shared with Rachel.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: No one ever makes Rachel's dads (or at least one of them) mean so I wanted to try that out.  
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**Let me know what you guys thought, for some reason the way this chapter was written felt different to me? Maybe I'm just paranoid ;)**

**Also I have nothing to do this evening and since I do not have school tomorrow I think I'm gonna stay up which means I'll update again later:)**


	8. do you think they can tell?

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me  
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**A/N: So I'm gonna stop saying when I'll update cause it never works out. I wrote the first half of this last night and then was just like, 'nope going to bed.' Jumping ahead a tiny bit. I think I might do another chapter or two in this summer before starting where the show picks up.  
><strong>

**Thanks, happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Age 15-Summer<strong>

The summer sun beat down on the rich, cool water of the pool as Brittany and Quinn glided effortlessly around the edges. When they got close to each other, Brittany would splash water at Quinn, which earned her either a small laugh or a wide grin every time. Brittany fell in love with moments like that; when she and her friends could relax and enjoy every minute they spent together without the drama of Cheerio's or boyfriends.

She thought _friends_ because up until then Santana had been laying out on a reclined beach chair next to the pool. A couple times, when she neared the edge closest to the house, Brittany would splash a little water up on her and watch Santana squirm at the feeling of the biting cold water against her sun-soaked skin.

When she removed her glasses after the tenth or so time Brittany had done it, she mockingly said, "I know you think you're irritating me, but you're actually helping me tan faster. So B," she bowed her head, "thank you." She tossed in a smirk at the end.

Quinn laughed from the other end of the pool. She ducked her head under the water and swam over to the edge where Brittany was eyeing Santana with a pout.

"C'mon Tana, get in the pool already. It's not fun when you tan the whole time," Brittany whined, hoping she could coerce Santana into jumping in the pool with them.

"Britt, I needs to get my tan on. I know you and Q are comfortable being the color of a piece of paper but _I_ like being dark." Quinn laughed at Santana, who she knew only acted like she was born in an underprivileged neighborhood to gain some 'street-cred.' Her father was the resident surgeon of Lima General Hospital; how 'ghetto' could she really be?

"San, please get in the pool. If you don't I'll just force Quinn to play lifeguard with me."

"Wait what's 'lifeguard'," Quinn asked innocently.

"Q, it's so fun! See I pretend to be drowning and Santana saves me. Usually I'm unconscious, so that means she has to do CPR—" Brittany was cut off by a deeply blushing Santana.

"B," she yelled. Brittany never learned to keep some things to herself. _'I wonder if that'll ever be a problem,' _Santana wondered.

Santana was not the only one blushing as Quinn said nervously, "Um thanks B, but I think I'll leave that game to you two." Brittany's pout grew even further. She looked at Santana again and put her best puppy eyes to work.

Santana tried her best to resist but couldn't stand to see that heartbreaking look on Brittany's face. Climbing up out of her chair and sitting on the edge of the pool, she slid her legs in and cringed at the chilly water. Once she was settled, she looked back at Brittany and watched her face light up with the accomplishment of getting her near the pool.

"Happy?"

Brittany looked up and put a finger under her chin to appear as if she was thinking really hard.

"Um, almost."

She grabbed onto Santana's waist and dragged her into the pool. They giggled relentlessly and Quinn joined in, playfully splashing water at them.

After a few minutes of letting Santana adjust to the water, Brittany challenged them to a race. They all lined up at one end of the pool and waited for Santana to give the signal to start. Before she yelled "Go!" she pushed herself away from the wall. Quinn and Brittany yelled "Cheater!" and tried to catch up with her. They swam the length of the pool and Santana reached the end first. She stood raising herself a little out of the water and looked around like she was being watched by a loving audience.

"Thank you, thank you. I won!" She looked down and saw her friends' scowling faces.

"You cheated," Quinn yelled and jumped up to push Santana's shoulders down, submerging her under the water. Brittany dived in to push Quinn down and they struggled in the water, humorously dunking each others' heads.

"Well B, Santana cheated so I guess that means she is disqualified. And I figured since she lost, you and I could take the shared first place." She gestured to a trophy in her hand that was not actually there and Brittany grabbed her hand and raised it into the sky.

"Woo! We won!" Santana splashed water into her mouth in aggravation.

"Whatever. I could have beat both of you anyway even if I didn't have that 'added advantage.'"

"Really? 'Added advantage?' What do you have gills or something," Quinn asked with a chuckle.

"Oh my god. San, do you have gills?" Brittany swam to her side and gently rubbed her fingers over the skin under Santana's ears. "I don't see any." She stared at Quinn questioningly. Quinn couldn't help but laugh and cover her face with her hands.

"No Britt, she was making a joke." Santana watched a look of disappointment spread over Brittany's face. "Don't worry, I don't need them. I can still swim faster than Q without them." She winked at her coyly.

Instantly grinning, Brittany swam over to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out.

"Brittany, where are you going," Quinn asked before she had a chance to dart off.

"I'm going to check what time it is," she answered and walked inside the house draping a towel around her dripping body.

Quinn turned back to Santana, whose face was poised into a permanent scowl, "Why does she need to know what time it is?"

"She has a date with Mike," Santana said, jealously riddled in every word that left her mouth.

"Oh." Quinn didn't know what to say. She could tell Santana was obviously upset about the development in Brittany's love life but didn't know if she should press the subject. Before she had a chance to ask, Brittany poked her head out of the back door.

"Hey I'm gonna shower and then leave. My mom said you guys could use the pool as long as you want. I'll text you later!" She slammed the door shut.

"_I'll text you later," _Santana said mockingly, "Yeah right, we'll be lucky if she texts us tomorrow." She dove under the water and resurfaced at the other edge of the pool.

Quinn returned her eyes to see Santana, sitting against the side of the pool with her head on her arms. "Why's that?"

Santana waited for Quinn to resurface from her voyage across the pool to her before answering, "Because Q, she goes out with all these guys and then doesn't go home." She saw Quinn scrunch her eyebrows together, "Yeah, that means what you think it means."

"But she wasn't ever like that." She struggled to find the words to explain what she meant. "I mean she was never particularly…_promiscuous_…" Santana let out a laugh.

"Promiscuous? Did you just step out of a Jane Austen novel?" She paused to chuckle again, "Or a Fergie song?" Quinn hit her lightly in the arm.

"You know what I'm trying to say Santana. I just didn't think she was like that."

Santana frowned. "She wasn't. I mean she asked me about sex once. But I didn't know she was thinking about it. That was the day she caught me and Puckerman."

Quinn gagged for show. "Ew San, I don't ever want to hear about you and Puck. Why you let him near you is beyond me."

"Cause Q, he is _very_ good with his hands." She wiggled her eyebrows at Quinn, who started to move away from her quickly.

"Nope, I'm done. Gross." Santana grabbed her and pulled her back to the spot they were resting in before.

"I'm just kidding Q. Well, not really." Quinn shuddered again. "But seriously, I'm just worried about her. I don't want her to do something stupid."

"She won't, S. I know for a fact her parents sat her down and talked to her about protection. Cause I was there." She looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, "And we were both quite mortified if I remember."

"That's not exactly what I mean. I know she'll be careful, I just don't want her to…I don't know Q it just makes me nervous that she is with all these guys all the time."

Quinn took a deep breath before deciding to push the conversation, "Nervous or jealous?"

Santana eyed her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Santana."

"No, Quinn. What are you trying to say? That I'm jealous of B? That I'm _jealous_ she has all these guys fawning over her at every turn?"

Quinn started, "No that's not what I was saying…"

"You know what? Fuck you." She started to pull herself out of the pool. "I'm not jealous of her. I could have any guy and then some if I wanted to. Maybe _you're_ a little jealous that you're stuck with Hudson while her and I—"

"Santana! That's not what I was saying!" Santana slid herself back over to Quinn with a scowl set on her face. "But first of all, ouch. Second of all I wasn't asking if you were jealous of her."

Santana eyed her suspiciously before she realized what Quinn was implying, "N-no, I'm not…why would you…"

"S, you don't have to say anything. And I won't tell anyone. In all honesty I've known for awhile."

Santana finally composed herself, "I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn shook her head lightly.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything. Just know if you ever want to talk," she put a firm hand on Santana's arm, "I'm here."

Santana didn't say anything but nodded. Quinn stood up out of the pool. "I have to go. I'm meeting Finn for a movie." She wrapped a towel around her waist before looking back down into the brown eyes staring sadly up at her. "It'll be okay, S. She'll come around."

Santana shrugged her shoulders lightly before adding, "I don't know what you're talking about. But," she paused, "thank you." She gave Quinn a small smile before turning her back and swimming towards the deep end of the pool. Quinn went in through the back door.

"Hmph. I thought kids weren't supposed to be left alone when they're swimming," Santana said to herself quietly. She glided slowly through the cool water, occasionally ducking her head under the water once the sun started to dry it out.

'_Why was Brittany acting like this?'_ Santana knew she wasn't necessarily the greatest role model when it came to dating. Mike wasn't exactly a virgin anymore thanks to her. But she had toned it down that year. Besides Puck, she hadn't slept with anyone new that summer. _'Maybe Brittany needs to get it out of her system,'_ she resolved. Hadn't she done the same thing? It's not like she _enjoyed_ having sex with all those guys. It was just something to pass the time and prove herself to the other Cheerio's. The _older_ Cheerio's.

_She remembered a sleepover they had for team bonding a few weeks after she, Brittany, and Quinn had joined the team. Girls were spread out on sleeping bags all throughout the large basement. They had all pretty much been doing their own thing, after all they were only there under Coach's orders, until the Captain, Stephanie, called everyone into the middle of the room. _

"_So let's get to know each other." She smirked at the girl next to her whose name Santana couldn't remember. Why did it matter right? "Fabray. What's the worst thing you've ever done?" The question caught Quinn off guard._

"_Umm, I don't really know. I haven't really done that many __**bad**__ things." She stared back and realized the other girls were not going to let her get off without saying something. "Well I guess I drank a little at my cousin's wedding last year…" she trailed off unsure if that was what they were looking for._

"_Wow, Quinnie, that's impressive." Stephanie mocked. Quinn's cheeks grew red instantly and she stood up to get herself another bottle of water. _

_Stephanie next turned to Brittany who was busy trying to win a thumb war with Santana. "Brittany." She halted her movements immediately and turned to look at their captain. "How many guys have you slept with?" _

"_Umm, I used to sleep with my dad when I was younger and got scared." Everyone's eyes widened as she continued, "And I'm not really sure if it counts, but there were tons of boys I slept with in pre-school during naptime." She looked around very confused at the expressions on everyone's faces._

"_Britt, she meant like, sex," Santana tried to say quietly. Everyone burst into laughter when they heard her and Brittany put her head down sadly._

"_Oh," she added, "Well none I guess."_

"_None," the nameless brunette Cheerio asked. "How have you not gotten with anybody?"_

"_I...don't know?" _

"_Well it doesn't matter anyway." Stephanie finally settled her eyes on Santana. "Well Lopez, I hope you're not as big of a disappointment as Pierce and Fabray. How about you?"_

"_Um, how many guys?" She looked uncertainly between her friends. "Uh, a few I guess. 2 or 3."_

"_Name one." _

"_Puckerman," she answered plainly. Sure she had lied about there being more than one but Puck was the honest truth. She had hoped they would leave her alone after that._

"_Outstanding." Stephanie turned away to look at the other girls, "Well Lopez moves fast. At least there is one cool freshman." They all laughed and Santana followed their lead._

_After they had all settled down to sleep, Brittany and Santana laid their sleeping bags down next to each other. When the light had been shut off, Brittany moved even closer and whispered, "Have you really done that with other guys than Puck?" Santana looked at her in confusion. "Sex," she clarified._

"_Oh. Well no but don't tell them that." She motioned to where the other girls were sleeping soundly. "B, I just want them to respect me." Santana grabbed hold of Brittany's hand. "Wait a few weeks and tell them you did it too. They'll like you more," she paused and then added, "I promise."_

_Brittany nodded her head and they both fell asleep with hands clasped tight between them._

After a few months, Brittany and Santana became the most popular freshman Cheerio's. Other than Quinn, who used her wholesomeness to inflict an air of superiority. As popular as they were, Quinn was just as intimidating, which earned her much more respect.

Santana finally pulled herself up onto the ledge of the pool and grabbed a towel to dry off the upper part of her body, her legs still submerged in the water. She sat with the towel resting in her lap and kicked her legs at the water watching the waves she created.

* * *

><p>Santana walked into her bedroom at ten o'clock and pulled the covers down, climbing into her bed. For the last few hours, she had been throwing herself between the couch and the computer chair, checking to see if anything fun was going on. The boys were out of town for some father-son fishing trip that apparently all the football guy's fathers forced them to go on. She was confused why it was called father-son considering Karofsky and Matt were the only ones with dads who were going. Finn and Puck were invited out of what she assumed was pity—Finn's father being dead and Puck's father just having skipped town. As usual, Finn declined when someone mentioned the father part of the trip. Everyone knew he was sensitive when it came to that topic. When Santana finally decided nothing was happening, she decided to call it a night.<p>

Once she snuggled under her covers, she checked her phone for a message she knew wouldn't be there. She was surprised to see a message from Quinn was waiting in her inbox.

**(9:45 PM) Quinn: **U up for ice cream with me + Finn?

She thought about it for a minute but decided having to watch the two feed each other would only make her more depressed than she already was.

**(10:01 PM): **No thanks. Have fun :)

The response was immediate. _'For someone who is on a date with their boyfriend she sure seems distracted,' _Santana thought before opening the message.

**(10:02 PM) Quinn: **Okay S. Try not to think so much about B. She'll be fine.

Santana tossed her phone aside and buried herself deeper in the sheets and pillows. Quinn always could read her every emotion, even when she tried her hardest to hide them. She reached over and turned off the light before shutting her eyes and trying to fall asleep.

A few minutes later she heard a light rapping on her window. She pushed her paranoia aside and convinced herself it was the tree outside scraping against the window. Even when it continued she ignored it, assuming it must have been a very windy night. It eventually stopped and she relaxed back into her mattress. She felt a vibration near her leg where she had tossed her phone earlier, and she let out an aggravated sigh. _'What does Q want now,'_ she thought angrily. When she opened her phone she was shocked her new message was not from Quinn.

**(10:14 PM): Brittany: **Can u open the window? Its really cold out here

Santana didn't understand what she meant at first until she remembered the sounds at her window. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the windowsill, pushing it open as quietly as she could. Sure enough, there was Brittany perched against the side of the house.

"What are you doing here, Britt," she asked softly. When Brittany made no motion to move, she added, "Are you coming in or not?"

Brittany turned her head and looked deep into her eyes before answering, "Would you mind if we sat out here for a little bit?" Santana nodded her head and started to climb out before Brittany's words stopped her. "Can you get a blanket or something?"

Santana climbed back in and looked around the room for a second, deciding what to grab. She reached under her bed to find a knit blanket and brought it outside with her. When she sat down next to Brittany, she laid it out overtop of them. Brittany immediately snuggled in close to Santana's side and wrapped both arms around her waist.

"What's going on," Santana whispered quietly into Brittany's hair nestled into her neck. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through the golden hair falling onto her own shoulder.

Brittany let out a tiny whimper before answering. "I don't wanna do it anymore, S."

"Do what," she asked worriedly. Brittany shook her head slightly and pulled away to look up into Santana's eyes.

"Are you mad at me?"

Santana's forehead creased. "Mad? Why would I be mad at you?" Brittany settled back down onto her shoulder.

"I saw Quinn and Finn at the movies, cause that's where me and Mike were," Santana tensed at the mention of her date, "she pulled me aside and asked me to text you some point tonight because you were upset about something."

'_God damn it Quinn,' _Santana figured Quinn wouldn't let it go without saying something.

"She made it sound like it was my fault. Did I do something wrong?" Brittany pulled Santana closer.

She let out a loud sigh. "No, you didn't do anything." She felt Brittany physically relax.

"Then why are you upset?".

Santana decided now wasn't a time to lie so she answered honestly, "I just miss you, B. You're always out…with guys." Brittany noticed the bitter tone at the end of her statement.

"I miss you too." She planted a light kiss on Santana's cheek. "But you're still my best friend, you know that right?"

Santana bit the inside of her cheek. "Yeah, best friends." She shook her head a little to erase the words.

"Let's go inside." Brittany had already stood up and was partially through the window before Santana finally pushed herself up off of the roof. She followed the girl into the room and fell into her own bed. Brittany giggled and climbed in next to her and shuffled under the covers. Santana moved under the sheets and turned her back to Brittany.

Santana's eyes were still wide open after a few minutes had passed, during which she thought Brittany had fallen asleep. That was until she felt the bed shift and a body press tightly in behind hers and an arm drape lightly over her midsection. She relaxed into the warmness covering her. Once again, she felt herself drift off until a pressure at the back of her neck jolted her awake.

Brittany had been kissing the nape of Santana's neck softly and her body went rigid at the sensation.

"What are you doing," she whispered so quietly she was sure Brittany couldn't have heard her.

Brittany removed her hand from Santana's stomach and started to run it lightly up and down her side. She brought her lips close to Santana's ear and breathed out lightly, "Shh, it's okay."

Santana relaxed a little and a warm flush filled her face. "B," she tried once more but Brittany didn't stop. After a few more light kisses traced her shoulders, she whipped around to face Brittany and starred heavily into sparkling blue-eyes. Santana shut her eyes as the breaths from Brittany's lungs fell calmly on her lips.

Brittany ran her finger tips up Santana's forearm, delicately stroking until she reached her shoulders. She tensed her fingers and dragged her nails lightly down the skin producing goose bumps as she went.

It sent chills to Santana's spine and she couldn't control herself any longer, leaning in to capture Brittany's lips in a passionate kiss. Santana reveled in the soft skin moving delicately against her mouth. She failed to suppress a moan that echoed inside Brittany's throat. Santana felt Brittany smiling into the kiss and bit her bottom lip. Brittany gasped, and Santana's tongue slipped past her lips, dancing against her own.

The kiss felt different than any other Santana could remember. Before, her kisses with Brittany and Puck felt hurried and hungry; instead, it was full of emotion and desire. She didn't feel like she was working towards a goal but was allowed to enjoy every second of it.

She was brought back to reality when the hand that had been dragging nails roughly down her arm moved lower to the exposed skin at her hip. Brittany's fingers pushed up the bottom of her shirt higher and massaged the caramel skin.

Santana broke the kiss to say something but was caught off guard by Brittany attacking her neck. She felt her bite the skin lightly and then soothing the irritated flesh with her tongue.

"Britt," she tried again, but Brittany continued her path.

Brittany's hand moved further down and entered the top of Santana's shorts. Santana froze, and shoved her back so hard she toppled off the bed.

"Britt," she yelled in concern and looked down onto the floor where Brittany laid in a jumbled mess.

"What the hell, Santana," she said angrily, "Why'd you do that?" She rested on her knees at the edge of the bed and looked into Santana's eyes.

"Britt, you can't just…do that." Santana said quietly. She reached down to grab Brittany's hand and pulled her back onto the bed.

"Why not? You seemed pretty into it," Brittany answered in a huff.

"That's not the point B. It's…a big deal."

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows. "Why? You do it with everyone else."

The bitter words stung Santana and she squeezed Brittany's hand."It's not the same. We're just…friends. We shouldn't do that anyway."

"But we both want to," Brittany let out in frustration. She quickly calmed herself and mentioned, "At least I want to."

"That's not the point! We shouldn't want to." Santana looked hopefully into Brittany's eyes, asking her to drop it.

"Whatever, Santana." She turned on her opposite side and faced the wall away from begging brown eyes.

Santana rolled over too and breathed in deeply trying to calm her nerves that had been on edge since the first kiss Brittany had laid against her neck. She tilted her head back and whispered, "Goodnight B."

"Night S."

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><p><strong>AN: Kinda short, but whatever :) Thanks for reading! Love to see some reviews :)**


	9. you're a stranger to me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I want to say this right now so no one gets disappointed, but I am terrible at writing 'smut' sexy scenes and just feel terribly uncomfortable doing so you'll never get detailed, graphic scenes from me. Saying that, I have to add that you will get some details that I personally do not find highly offensive. Anyways about this chapter, this is the same summer as the last chapter but just a few weeks later. So enjoy!**

**iamirreplazable: There's a little bit of an explanation as to why Santana freaked out last chapter in this chapter (god that's confusing) but it also...you know what lol just read it. Don't wanna spoil anything :)**

**krbutler: Thank you, thank you, thank you :) You made me smile like an idiot :)  
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**Thanks, happy reading!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>The door flew open and a rush of blonde hair ran towards her bed as Santana looked up from a book she was reading. Her heart leapt in surprise but was soon clouded with disappointment at realizing the golden locks belonged to the wrong blonde.<p>

"Puck's having a party." Quinn moved around the room to pull clothes out of dressers and Santana's closet.

Santana closed her book and sat up on the bed to watch Quinn frantically select outfit after outfit.

"Okay? So why are you making my room a mess? Don't you have your own clothes?" she asked extremely annoyed that she would most likely be the one cleaning up the clothes Quinn was throwing all around the room.

"No you don't understand. He's having a real party, like _everyone_ is going to be there. We need to look hot S." She continued to drape clothes over her body to see how they looked.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Santana asked mockingly.

Quinn let out a frustrated sigh. "It has nothing to do with that. All the upperclassmen are going to be there and even some college kids. Now's the time to make an impression."

"You know you sound like an idiot right?" Quinn glared at her but she continued, "We're already the most popular people at school. When the seniors are gone next year, it's not gonna be the juniors that run the place, it's gonna be us."

"But we still need to keep that image. Going to this party, looking gorgeous, and maybe a little torture along the way is essential to that. So get up! And help me find something to wear."

Santana stood up from the bed and laughed Quinn while she still rifled through her large closet.

"I'm pretty sure you're the reason they think white girls are crazy. Just sayin." She ducked out of the way when Quinn hurled a pair of jeans at her. "Aw little white girl can't take a joke."

They tried on outfit after outfit which took a lot longer than necessary, Santana thought, because Quinn had to go to the bathroom to change every time. Eventually, Quinn settled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black top with a deep neckline and Santana squeezed into a red dress that cut off right above the knees. They looked at themselves in the mirror before grinning in satisfaction.

Santana dropped onto her bed and Quinn took a seat at her computer chair slowly swiveling around. Santana sat up quickly when an idea struck her.

"Wait, does B know about the party?"

"I sent her a text and she already knew about it from Mike." Santana felt a flare of jealousy in her chest at the mention of his name. "She said she'd meet us there or something."

"Oh..." Santana trailed off before letting herself fall back onto the bed and breathing out a heavy breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Quinn asked softly unsure of how the conversation would end.

"Talk about what?" Santana bit out sharply. Quinn stood up and laid down next to her on the bed.

"Santana," she started, "I'm not," she didn't want to scare her off, "I'm not going to judge you. You're my best friend. You've been my best friend since pre-school when you gave me the last cookie after I cried." They laughed at the memory before Quinn voice became serious again, "I want to be here for you."

"Quinn," Santana tried to keep her voice strong but failed miserably as it wavered just at Quinn's name, "I don't know how to explain it."

"Try," Quinn encouraged.

"She just, makes me feel like a different person. I don't know how else to say it." She turned over to lie on her side so she look at Quinn, "I like Puck, I think I do at least. But he never makes me feel like how she does."

"Feel like what?" Quinn asked curiously. She knew Santana rarely opened up and she was going to try to get all she could out of the girl before she locked everything back up.

"Just like, her being there makes me smile. Just being in her presence. When we're alone no one gets her attention other than me and I love that. She looks at me like I'm the only thing that matters. And I know that I would do anything to get her to look at me like that. She makes me feel like when we're together, we could shut everything else out and just be." She paused to compose herself before adding with a smile, "And that's just the emotional side. Don't even get me started on the physical side." She looked over at Quinn to see if her words put Quinn off like she had intended but instead saw an even more curious expression on her face.

"Like what?" Quinn asked with more interest than Santana had expected.

"Umm, I don't know." She said awkwardly.

"Have you guys like…you know?" Quinn was uncomfortable but wanted to keep the conversation going.

"No!" Santana blushed furiously. "No, we haven't." She remembered the night a few weeks prior. "She's tried though."

"What do you mean tried?" Quinn finally looked at her.

"She came over after her date, that day we were swimming at her house," she looked at Quinn pointedly, "_Thanks_ for that by the way."

"What?" Quinn feigned surprise at the accusation.

"Really Q? Can you be more obvious?" She chuckled a little before getting back to her point. "Anyways, she came over and we were going to sleep when she tried to start something."

Quinn's eyes bugged out of her head, "What did you do?"

"I pushed her off the bed," Santana answered simply.

Quinn laughed heartily before adding, with a smile, "Subtle." Santana shoved her hard in the shoulder.

"Shut up. What would you have done?" She chuckled until she realized what she had just asked.

"For your sake, I hope I never have to find out." Quinn replied.

A moment of quiet passed between the two before Quinn spoke up again.

"I know this is going to be a weird question but didn't you want that to happen?"

Santana answer nearly cut off the end of Quinn's sentence. "Of course I did, but not like that. My first time with Puckerman was in a classroom at school. Mike and I unceremoniously did it in a porta-potty in the park. Matt at least had the common decency to lock his bedroom door but that didn't stop his little brother and sister from pounding on the door." She turned on her back and stared up into the ceiling. Quinn noticed the tears building up behind her eyes. "I just want it to right."

"And special." Quinn added. Santana knew it wasn't a question.

"Exactly." She had to reach up and wipe away a stray tear falling slowly down her cheek.

Quinn ran her fingers through Santana's dark hair before saying softly, "It'll be okay, S."

Santana sniffed quietly before whispering, "Thanks." A moment of heavy silence passed between them and neither girl wanted to break it.

Quinn finally relented and sat up and placed a firm pat to Santana's thigh.

"C'mon. We need to finish getting ready."

* * *

><p>When they were close to the party, they could already hear the booming music filling the streets. Santana knew Puck's philosophy when it came to parties was always, <em>"Go big or go home."<em> And when they finally stepped into the house, they saw how true that statement was. Multiple sound systems were set up in different rooms of the house; each one louder than the next. Every surface was covered with plastic cups. Every couch was occupied by teenagers making out shamelessly past the point that was acceptable in public.

Quinn and Santana pushed through the make shift dance floor set up in the middle of the living room and made their way into the kitchen. They walked up to the counter and started fixing themselves drinks when a loud voice slurred behind them.

"Quinn! Santana! Welcome to chez-Puckerman!" A very inebriated Puck walked up and put his arms around them and Quinn and Santana looked at each other with a smile.

"Someone's enjoying themselves." Quinn said and Puck nodded his head a little too heavily. He was having trouble keeping it up already.

"Of course babe..." He laid his head against the side of Santana's. "Hey if you get bored later, I have a room with your name on it," He whispered loudly in her ear. Quinn blushed and emptied the contents of her cup. She stared into the bottom and turned to get herself another.

Santana pushed him lightly away from her, "I'll keep that in mind." He reached down and gave her ass a quick squeeze before walking away with a grin. She saw Quinn downing another drink and hurried over to pull the drink from her mouth.

"Hey slow down there Q." Quinn looked at her with slightly glazed over eyes. "Wow, you are such a light weight. You had one drink!" Santana shook her head incredulously.

"I'm just trying to catch up with everyone here," Quinn said proudly. "Come on Santana, it's a party, lets loosen up for once." She grabbed her drink back out of Santana's hand.

"_You're_ telling me to loosen up?" Santana laughed and grabbed Quinn's drink and downed it in one gulp. She felt the burn of the alcohol against her throat but ignored it. She saw an angry look on her friend's face and reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, "Aw Q, you're face is gonna get stuck like that. Quinn slapped her hand away. "Let's get you another drink shall we?" She started to turn back to the counter to pour more drinks when a hand beat her to it.

"I'll get her one." Finn took the bottle of vodka off the counter and poured it into a plastic cup before handing it to Quinn.

"Very good Finnocence, but you forgot to mix it with something." She grabbed the drink out of the Quinn's hand and poured in a little cranberry juice. She didn't want her to get too drunk tonight. It was rare for Quinn to be drinking at all and she didn't want her to have to deal with unwanted attention from puking or making an ass out of herself. She honestly didn't understand why she was so set on getting so drunk.

She handed the drink back before grabbing Finn by the shirt and pulling him in close.

"Watch her tonight. I don't want her doing anything she'll regret." And it was true. Quinn always had her back so maybe it was time she watched out a little closer for her. Finn nodded his head in agreement before moving to wrap an arm around Quinn who had already drank half of her cup. He turned her to lead them out of the room before Santana stopped him.

"Hey have you seen Britt?" she asked hopefully.

"Uh, yeah I think she was dancing with Mike in the living room. See ya, Santana." He tightened his hold on Quinn before exiting the room.

"Thanks Hudson," Santana called after him before taking her drink and walking to the living room stopping in the doorway to scan the crowd. After a few minutes she found Brittany, who sure enough was grinding up against Mike in a very drunken state. She had to admit that Mike matched Brittany's skill pretty well but she couldn't help but picture herself in his position. She imagined feeling Brittany leaning into her and running her hands over the girl's hips pulling her farther back against her body. Once she started realizing how uncomfortably turned on she, Santana finished her drink, turned back to the kitchen, grabbed an already open beer and set out to find Puck.

If there was one person that could help her relieve this…tension...it would be the mohawked boy she regularly found herself waking up next to. She stumbled into the backyard seeing him mid-make out with a girl she didn't recognize but looked slightly older than everyone else at the party. _'Wow Quinn was right, there were college kids here. I wonder how Puck pulled that off…' _she thought before storming up to the two and ripping the girl off his lap by her hair.

"Hey slut! Get off my boyfriend!" She screamed at the tiny brunette staring up at her from the ground. When she started to fight back Santana shot her a glare that made her immediately rethink speaking and she went running scared inside the house.

"Wow babe. That was hot." Santana finally looked at Puck, who was watching her lustfully.

"About that room?" she asked with a seductive smirk.

Puck shook his head trying to remember the conversation from earlier. When the realization seemingly hit him, he rushed to grab her hand and pull her through the house and up the stairs. When they arrived at his room, he slammed it open startling a couple that was making use of his bedroom already.

"Get out!" He yelled loudly, scaring them into stumbling over their clothes into the hallway and then slammed the door behind them. He turned around to see Santana staring at him intensely and he closed the gap between them kissing her hardly and pushing her back towards the bed. They walked backwards until Santana's legs met the edge of the mattress effectively making her fall into a seated position. Eye level with his waist, she unbuckled his belt and he stepped out of jeans before leaning down to pull her dress over her head and tossed it aside. Puck picked her up under the arms and dropped her back heavily against the pillows at the head of the bed before positioning himself above her. He reattached their lips and their tongues fought for dominance until Santana broke the kiss to place kisses down his chest and reaching up to rip his shirt over his head. She gripped tightly onto his back trying to stare anywhere else than at him.

* * *

><p>"That was so hot," he laid next to her at the top of his bed. The loud bass from the music downstairs disturbed the quiet of the room and Puck stood up to redress himself. Santana continued to lie unmoving from under the thin sheets of his bed.<p>

"I mean every time it's amazing but that was different," Puck continued on as he slipped his shirt over his head. She let him say all the familiar things he must have practiced with every girl he had sex with. She had heard them all before. _'That was special,' _he'd say. Or _'You don't know how much this meant to me.'_ He must have been getting tips from other guys because some of them sounded new.

When he continued to stare at her waiting for a response she forced a smile and nodded her head. He smiled, walking over to her side of the bed and leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You know you're my girl right?"

'_That one is not new,'_ Santana thought, disgusted by his words. Once again she nodded, realizing any trace of the buzz she had earlier was long gone now. _'Have to fix that._'

Puck turned and left the room hastily only turning around once to say sweetly, "I'll see you downstairs." With that he shut the door and Santana heard loud cheers coming from the hallway. The sound made her sick knowing he was going to go relive what had just happened with everyone from the football team. _'Maybe he and Matt can compare notes,' _she smiled flippantly.

She crawled out of the bed and found her dress discarded on the floor. She pulled it over her head and reveled in the warm feeling of being covered that had left her the second Puck was over her. Under him, she felt cold and rigid. Her body clearly didn't understand the concept of _'a warm body.'_

Once she exited the room she made her way down the hallway ignoring the stares that everyone gave her as she descended the steps. She made her way back into the kitchen to grab another drink when a warm hand grabbed her around the wrist.

"Sani!" Brittany's squeal deafened her and she pulled away to look through the almost empty bottles of alcohol. Brittany stumbled over to her again wrapping her arms around the Santana's waist. "Where have you been? I have been waiting for you to get here all night. Finn said he saw you but when I looked you were gone."

Santana continued to ignore her and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels that looked surprisingly untouched. She unscrewed the lid and drank out of it before turning to walk away. She took two steps before realizing Brittany was still attached to her hips.

"Can you let me go?" she asked angrily. Brittany let go and turned her around roughly.

"Why are you mad?" she asked trying to keep her eyes open. Santana noticed she must have been drinking heavily to be that obviously drunk. The two of them were very good at holding their liquor after only a year's experience of partying, so she knew Brittany must have had a drink in her hand the whole night.

"I saw you when I got here," Brittany squinted her eyes not understanding, "Dancing with Mike. I doubt you were that concerned about me with him rubbing all over you." She couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite considering what had just taken place upstairs.

"San…he's my boyfriend. What do you want me to do? Drop him the second you walk in?" Brittany's voice became irritated.

"Maybe, yeah," she muttered under her breath, "I would for you."

"What was that?" Brittany asked sharply. Santana looked away. "Okay so we're playing that game again. Okay, Santana, if you want to grow up, you know where to find me."

She turned to leave but Santana grabbed her arm, "B, wait. I'm sorry."

Brittany turned back for just a second, "It's okay S. I'm just going to go dance with Mike. Don't worry about it." She left her alone in the kitchen and returned to the dance floor.

Santana's face fell and she internally slapped herself. She knew she was doing a good job of pushing Brittany away all by herself and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She took another large swig from the bottle before leaving it behind.

Santana walked back to her place at the door frame and searched the room for Brittany so she could catch another glance of her dancing. She couldn't find her right away but instead her eyes fell upon a very-drunk Quinn who danced in the middle of a group of older guys. Santana assumed they must have been some of the frat guys that had shown up from the local college. Quinn dance from guy to guy teasing each with a light touch or a swift brush of her hips but never staying with one for too long. If she didn't know Quinn, she wouldn't have been able to recognize this girl flowing easily between everyone on the dance floor. This girl wasn't her friend. Something inside her burned and she wanted to get Quinn as far away from them as she possibly could. Without thinking she stormed through the crowd and grabbed her harshly by the arm.

"Hey what are you doing?" One of the guys asked her loudly. Santana eyed him ferociously.

"Back the fuck up!" she warned through gritted teeth and pulled Quinn along with her. She walked them through the house and out into the backyard. She didn't see Brittany watching the whole scene unfold and following them at a slow pace.

When they reached a bench on the back-porch, Santana sat Quinn down forcefully.

"Whoa what…umm…what the hell are you doing San?" Quinn tried to act angry but her drunken state betrayed her. She laughed up in the girl's face. "You…look silly." She reached up and pushed her index finger lightly against Santana's nose. Santana growled and slapped her hand away.

"What are you doing Quinn? Where's Finn?" she tried to get Quinn to look her in the eyes but failed miserably. She searched behind Santana's head to look for Finn lazily.

"Well I…do not know. He said he was going to get a drink but never came back." She leaned over to whisper close to Santana's face, "I may have moved though." She snickered lightly to herself.

"Jesus Q. Never thought I'd see the day where you were the belligerent one." Quinn's eyebrows scrunched together trying to understand the words coming out of Santana's mouth. She tried to clear away the cloudiness by shaking her head.

"S, I need to tell you something." Santana was busy trying to send a text to Finn telling him where they were and to come take his girlfriend home. She didn't want Quinn staying here like this. She looked up and Quinn was staring at her in anticipation.

"What do you need to tell me?" Quinn grabbed her shoulder tightly and pulled Santana closer. "Ow, Quinn. Be careful."

Quinn whispered in Santana's ear, "You're lucky." She sat back and Santana eyed her curiously.

"Why am I lucky?" She asked quietly. She enjoyed the playful whispering drunk Quinn was providing.

"Because. At least you have a chance with who you really want," Quinn blurted out softly and then covered her mouth like she had just revealed a terrible secret. She removed her hand to show a good-natured smile.

"I don't understand," Santana shook her head still smiling.

"Brittany." Santana looked around to make sure no was overhearing their conversation. "She's popular, she's hot, everyone loves her."

Santana nodded again in acknowledgement, "Yeah and?"

"You're lucky." Quinn looked like she was done with the conversation and Santana leaned back trying to figure out what she meant.

"Q, I know you're having a really hard time concentrating right now," she paused to chuckle lightly, "but can you explain what you mean a tiny bit better?"

Quinn shook her head loosely, "Don't worry about it." Her mood changed drastically. "Figure it out for yourself."

Santana stood as Finn appeared from the back door of the house walking over quickly to where they sat.

"Hey, is she okay?" Concern dripped into his voice and Santana couldn't help but feel a little jealous knowing no one worried that much about her.

"Yeah she's fine. Just take her home."

Finn picked Quinn up and held her snugly against his side trying to steady her wobbly legs. They walked a few steps before Quinn stumbled out of his grasp and over to Santana.

"Go for it," was the last thing she whispered in Santana's ear before letting Finn lead her into the house. As they entered, Brittany walked out and stood next to Santana who was eyeing Quinn's retreating figure.

"Is she going to be okay?" Brittany asked worriedly. Santana could tell she had sobered up a little since their last encounter.

"She just drank a little too much," Santana thought about her own alcohol intake, "For her at least."

The two chuckled lightly before Brittany turned to face the side of Santana's head, "I'm sorry about earlier."

Santana waved it away, "Don't worry about it."

"Are we okay?" Brittany asked nervously.

"Yeah B. We're fine," she smiled genuinely, "How about we go dance?"

Brittany's face lit up and she eagerly dragged Santana into the house and towards the dance floor. Santana turned her around so Brittany's back was to her and she put hands on either hip, pulling her backwards. Brittany danced without hesitation, slowly sliding down Santana's body and dragging even slower back up. The arousal she felt watching Brittany earlier with Mike couldn't compare to the one she felt then. The residual alcohol in her body made it harder and harder to stop herself from taking Brittany right there on the floor. Half of her was sure she wouldn't care too much afterwards but the little self restraint she had managed to keep her actions in check.

Santana hadn't noticed Brittany had turned around and slipped her arms loosely around her neck clasping her hands behind her. Brittany leaned in and whispered seductively in her ear, "This is so hot."

The words resonated in Santana's head and she couldn't help but cringe at how much they echoed Puck's words from earlier in the night. She wondered if that's all she was to Brittany. If Brittany saw her, how Puck saw her. _'Another warm body.'_

Before she could stop herself, she grabbed Brittany forcibly and pulled her out of the room and down the hallway. She looked around trying to remember the layout of Puck's house and remembered one of the doors led to a closet. She tried the first one which ended up being the bathroom housing a drunken Stephanie Pratt hunched over the toilet. The red-headed ex-Cheerio looked up at the girl pleadingly,but Santana whipped her phone out of her bra quickly and snapped a picture before slamming the door. _'That will come in handy later,'_ she thought before reaching another door. When she opened it she was thankful to find the closet emptier than the last time she had seen it when it held all of Puck's toys and board games.

She dragged Brittany into the small room and closed the door behind them. Before Brittany got a chance to protest, Santana had her up against the door and crushed their lips together passionately.

'_If Brittany wants a warm body, then she'll get one.' _

Santana pulled away to bite down hard on the girls neck and ignored the whimper of pain that came out of Brittany's lips. Instead, she reattached their lips and pushed her tongue into Brittany's mouth.

Finally responding, Brittany gripped Santana's hips hardly and pulled them into her own. She felt Santana roll her hips forward and threw her head back at the sensation. Santana placed hard open-mouthed kisses to Brittany's neck, sucking and biting trying claiming the skin as her own. She wanted Brittany to know that she was in control.

She kissed down Brittany's chest as she opened the buttons of her shirt, tossing the irritating piece of clothing aside and pulling her tank top over her head. She pressed herself flush against Brittany's body rocking her hips into her one more time.

Brittany raised one of her legs to wrap around Santana's waist and hold her close against her own body. She didn't understand what was happening but she wasn't going to fight something she had wanted for a long time. She knew Santana knew what she was doing and if Santana was ready, so was she.

Santana dropped to her knees to slowly unzip the jeans and tug them down and away from Brittany's feet. She placed both palms on Brittany's legs and ran her hands up her body as she slowly stood up and pushed her roughly against the door one more time before shoving her hand ungracefully into Brittany's panties.

Brittany moaned out in surprise and let her head fall back against the door. Santana continued to lick and bite at Brittany's neck and run her tongue down across her collarbone.

She loved the taste that was Brittany. Even as she defiled the sweet girl she knew she harbored intense feelings for, she couldn't help but realize the cold, icy feeling she felt with Puck was instead replaced by a warm, comforting one.

Brittany was using her for sex; that she knew.

Puck used her for sex; that was also something she knew.

But what did she use them for?

Puck made her happy. He was always there when she needed someone. But she never felt _right_ sleeping with him. She felt like she was betraying someone. Herself?

Being with Brittany was different. Here in the tiny, dark closet Brittany made her feel content. Brittany was everything.

"San…" Her name broke through the silence filled with deep breaths and heavy panting coming from the both of them.

"Hmm?" was the only thing she could muster between kisses and strokes.

"I'm so…I…lov…San" Was the last thing said before Brittany tumbled over the edge. Santana heard the beginning of a loud scream echo and quickly removed her hand from Brittany and used it to cover her mouth, muffling the cry.

Brittany leaned her forehead down against Santana's and breathed a few heavy breaths trying to catch her breath.

"Santana…that was…" Brittany began but was interrupted by a loud sniff indicating the other girl was crying. "San, what's wrong?"

Before she got an answer, Santana pulled the door open quickly and left her alone in the thick, dense air of the closet.

Santana ran through the party trying to hide her face and walked quickly out the front door of the house. She walked a few houses down and turned a corner before collapsing in the front yard of a house she didn't recognize. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into her lap. She was unable to stop the unhindered tears from flowing down her face. She laid back into the soft grass and stared up at the sky through murky eyes still overflowing with wetness.

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><p><strong>AN: I know some of you are gonna be like "wtf was that? You just totally contradicted what she said to Quinn!"**

**And I totally did.  
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**This chapter was really interesting to write for me cause a lot of what Santana said to Quinn about Brittany was actually from conversations I've had with people in real life. Most of the sappy stuff was stuff I said about various people in my life cause I'm a little bit of a hopeless romantic. **

**Oh, also, that story about people losing their virginity in a porta-potty, that literally happened to two people I know. They aren't my friends but well, lets just leave it at that :)**


	10. i'd say sorry if it meant anything

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Alright after the last chapter I realized this story is going in its own direction that I didn't really intend so I tried to reign it back in a little in this chapter. So saying that I'm sorry if this chapter sucks but I really didn't know how else to get stuff back to the way I wanted it. You can berate me in reviews if you like but I know where this story is going so I'm doing what I gotta do.  
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**To all the reviews after that last chapter thank you :) it was my favorite so far. There will be love for Brittana yet, trust me. You're not gonna get a lot more angst between them for a while, but the faberry angst is about to be turned up ( i believe) so i'll throw in a lot of cute brittana moments to re-establish the relationship.  
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**Thanks :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All character belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>"Quinn..." Her name startled her out of sleep, but the pounding in her head made her fight for a way back into unconsciousness. Quinn buried her head deeper under the pillow pulled over her mess of golden hair.<p>

"Quinn!" A loud voice boomed again and she felt like her ears were going to bleed. When she didn't move she was shook by two relentless tiny hands trying to wake her.

"What do you want?" she yelled and then regretted the volume of her own voice. She felt the pillow being removed forcibly from her head.

"Glad to see you're alive," she recognized the voice and then snarled back an answer.

"Wish I could say the same about you," she grabbed another pillow from above her head and pulled it down over her head again.

Santana took the pillow she had removed earlier and brought it down with a thud on Quinn's already pillow-covered head.

"Ow! God damn it Santana!" Quinn yelled, jumping up from her place on the bed and tackling Santana to the ground.

"Now _Quinnie_," her tone was full of mock-authority as they wrestled on the ground, "I don't think Judy would like it if you took the Lord's name in vain." They struggled for a moment longer before separating and Quinn returned to the bed with a final slap to Santana's head.

"I don't think she'd like it if I told her how much I drank last night either, but what she doesn't know…" she smirked at Santana, who got up and sat with her legs crossed at the foot of the bed leaning against the banister at the back.

"Yeah what was up with that? I don't think you've drank that much since Finn told everyone about his 'problem' and how you two dealt with it." She put up air quotes around problem and Quinn sent her a light kick to the shin.

"Can he be more of an idiot?" She asked playfully.

"I highly doubt it. But you didn't answer my question."

Santana noticed Quinn fidget and stare down at the blanket resting over lap starting to play with the fringes. When she looked back up and into Santana's eyes, she simply shrugged.

"I-I don't know. Bad day I guess."

Quinn knew why.

_The Previous Day_

"_Quinn, do you wanna go to the mall with me and Puck?" Finn asked with his boyish smile hoping she would agree to go with them. _

_The last thing she wanted was to spend the whole day with the two boys. She knew it would consist of Finn subtly checking out other girls, and Puck, well, not so subtly._

_But she forced a smile and agreed with a lackluster nod. Before she knew it, she was strolling through Lima Hills Mall with Finn's arm wrapped irritatingly around her shoulders and Puck's combat boots echoing annoyingly against the tile floor. She rolled her eyes at the middle school girls eyeing Puck with their best flirtatious smiles and girlish giggling. Little did they know when it came to the age-spectrum, he went in the opposite direction. She saw the appeal of Puck's bad boy looks but was always off put with his smug attitude. _

"_Hey check it out!" he said, dragging her out of her thoughts. Finn pried his eyes away from the jailbait to look where he was pointing down the long expanse of stores. The trio saw Rachel Berry sitting alone on a bench surrounded by bags from her day's shopping. Quinn even thought she saw one from Kids-R-Us. She had a grape slushie and was drinking it while staring into the floor obviously lost in her own thoughts._

'_Oh dear lord Rachel,' she thought as they got closer to Rachel._

"_Quinn I bet you won't go grab that from her and pour it on her head," Puck said mischievously, smirking at her._

_Quinn internally sighed knowing that regardless of who did it, Rachel was getting slushied._

"_A slushy? Really Puck? Real original," she bit out, trying her best to stop what she knew was coming._

"_I don't hear you complaining when __**you**__ do it every day at school," he answered smugly._

"_That's just school. I need to make an example out of her there," she answered matter-of-factly._

"_Yeah Puck, we should just leave her alone. I mean she doesn't really deserve it anyway," Quinn eyed Finn curiously as he continued, "She actually kind of okay." _

_Fire burned behind her eyes and Finn noticed, quickly trying to retract his words, "I mean she's a total loser so we shouldn't even bother right?" He looked to Puck trying to gain support but was met with a shrug._

"_Oh she's __**okay**__ now," she turned her glare from Finn to Puck, "You know what Noah, if Finn here thinks she's okay then obviously we aren't doing our jobs right."_

"_But Quinn you just said…" Finn started but Quinn's cold stare shut him down._

"_No, you know what, maybe we shouldn't have been so light with the torture during the summer. Let's make sure she knows her place never changes, even outside school. It'll teach her a lesson." Quinn walked away from a shamed Finn and an ever-smirking Puck. _

_She marched up to Rachel, who was still sitting idly watching people pass by her, and stopped in front of her. Quinn felt her face falter in such close proximity with Rachel but held strong. Rachel finally noticed someone was staring back at her and looked up to see a deeply scowling Quinn, burning holes into her face. _

"_Hello Quinn," she muttered lightly, unsure of what she had done to make Quinn so mad._

_Instead of answering Quinn snatched the drink out of Rachel's hand, pulled off the lid, and promptly dumped it over her head. The purple liquid dripped down her face and flowed down onto her argyle sweater. _

_A few people stopped walking to stare at the sight and burst into laughter. Some adults walked by shaking their heads in disgust but kept walking nonetheless. _

_Rachel looked up at Quinn through tear-filled eyes and asked a wordless 'Why?' Quinn looked down at her with distain and felt a hint of remorse. She didn't want to do this. But she couldn't stop. 'Why did Finn have to be so stupid?' she thought regretfully. _

"_Loser." Quinn planted the final blow and walked away to rejoin the boys. Finn looked on with terror but quickly covered it with an insincere smirk as Quinn approached him. Puck was doubled over with laughter and raised his hand for a high-five that the blonde returned shamefully. She didn't look back at Rachel and tried her best to ignore the jests of other mall patrons as she walked away from the scene._

_A crime scene. That's how she saw it. But she wasn't killing something inside Rachel. She was killing something inside herself._

"Well you must have been having a hell of a day." Santana answered and laid down next to her.

Quinn sighed heavily, "Yeah. So how was the rest of your night? Granted I can't remember anything past dancing with that guy. Rick? Rich? Something…" she trailed off and Santana laughed a little. Quinn noticed the insincerity and watched Santana's face as she answered.

It was the first time she really looked at her friend since their conversation started. Her eyes looked heavy and dark circles sagged under her eyes. She traced the edges of worry across her forehead and guessed Santana hadn't slept that night. Something must have happened at the party. _'Why else would she be here this early?'_ it was the first time the thought had occurred to Quinn.

"Nothing special. I mean I drank, I danced, I slept with Puckerman." She retold the story with no conviction.

"Two things: one, gross, and two, you are a terrible liar. What's going on S?" Quinn asked timidly.

"I-I don't really want to talk about it." Santana whispered and Quinn could hear the emotion laced in every word. She reached over and ran a hand reassuringly along her face.

"Santana, just tell me," Santana shuddered under Quinn's touch, "It's okay."

"IhadsexwithBrittany," Santana said it so quickly she had to cover her mouth to muffle the sob that accompanied it.

Quinn pulled Santana close and wrapped both arms around her soothingly. Santana arched into the embrace and struggled to control her breathing. "I-I d-don't know w-what happened." The words were almost unintelligible slipping out of her mouth. Quinn ran a hand up and down her back trying to relax Santana's rigid body. "She just, she…" Santana tried to continue but Quinn shushed her.

"Calm down, it'll be okay." She planted a kiss to the top of her friend's head. She had never seen her that distraught. "It'll be okay. Just take your time and then tell me what happened."

A few minutes passed of Santana trying to settle her breathing and then she finally sat up and leaned her head against Quinn's arm. She was relaxed but the tears still poured relentlessly from her eyes. She took a few more deep breaths and Quinn continued to rub a hand along her arm soothing the girl.

"Okay I think I can say it now," she rested against Quinn and took one last large heavy breath. "After you left, she came over and asked if you were okay. And then she apologized for yelling at me earlier in the night and then we went to go dance." Tears started to come heavier and her voice started to waiver more as she continued, "She…she said something that reminded me of Puck. And it disgusted me to hear her talk to me like that."

"Like how?" Quinn asked softly.

"After me and Puck,_ you know_, he said something like 'that was hot' which is what he always says but when we were dancing," Santana paused and shook her head a little, "she leaned over and said the same thing." She wiped away some of the tears that had fallen past her chin. She knew it was useless and that they were going to keep coming but she needed to do something with her hands.

"Why did it bother you so much?" Quinn ran a finger across Santana's cheek helping clear some tears away.

"I just, I didn't think Brittany thought of me like that. The way—the way Puck thinks of me." She collapsed into another fit of sobbing and Quinn tried to soothe her again.

"S, she doesn't think of you like that. She is your best friend. She loves you. You know that." Quinn said trying to reassure her. She knew it was true; Brittany couldn't use anyone. She was too kind to do that to a stranger, let alone her best friend.

Santana cleared her throat loudly, "Yes she does Q. That's why she let me take her into a closet and…" she quieted at the end, unsure if she wanted to continue but already knew she had said too much. Quinn picked up onto it quickly.

"Wait, what did you do?" Quinn asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

Santana chuckled lightly, "I guess she got what she wanted." She smiled darkly and Quinn shook her head.

"Santana. No. You didn't." She tried to look her in the eyes, but Santana wasn't letting her in.

"I did." She laid her head back against the headboard and stared up into the ceiling. Santana didn't know what she was searching for, but it was better than watching the emotions pass on her friend's face.

"What happened to 'special' and 'right'?" Santana heard the slightly angry tone in Quinn's words.

"Why should it be special for me, if all she wanted was sex? I was doing myself a favor." Quinn was shocked at the words that spilled ungracefully from Santana's mouth.

"You don't believe that," she said, more of a statement than a fact.

"Who's to say what I believe and what I don't," she tried to steel her words.

"I know you're trying to be the cold, hard bitch that you are with everyone else, but you're not fooling yourself with me. I know how you feel about Brittany, Santana. And I know you don't like feeling hurt and emotional, but blaming her isn't going to make this any better." Quinn ignored Santana's snort and instead grabbed her shoulders and pulled her so she was facing her.

"Look at me Santana." For the first time Quinn saw into the brown eyes, filled to the top with pain and sorrow, and truly sympathized with her friend. "You love Brittany. And I know she loves you. Regardless of last night, nothing is going to change with you two. You need to talk to her. I know there is no way it meant what you thought it did. That's not Brittany."

Tears fell once more from Santana's eyes and her strong face crumble into a broken smile. "Thanks Quinn. I think you're right. At least I want you to be right. I'll just talk to her."

"You might want to try telling her how you feel," Quinn said hopefully.

"I don't know Q, that's big."

"Well you have to start somewhere. So go. Talk to her." Quinn said nudging her towards the door. She put on a playful smile, "Not that I don't love you crying all over my comforter."

Santana laughed and wiped a tear away, "Gee thanks Quinn. You are such a _good _friend." She stood up and walked towards the door on nervous legs. She left the room but peeked her head back in once more, "Seriously though, thanks. I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah well who doesn't?" Quinn said throwing a playful smirk at Santana, who stuck her tongue out in response.

Santana closed the door and pressed her back to it, _'Well here goes nothing...I hope.'_

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><p>"Brittany?" Santana called through the house. The Pierce house was surprisingly empty for a Saturday morning and she figured they might have all been out at a family lunch. Unlike her parent's, the Pierce's liked spending time with their kids. She always got an odd twinge of happiness when they chose to include her.<p>

Santana treated Brittany's house like her own, so she knew exactly where the spare key was to get in. She walked lightly through the kitchen feeling like if she made a noise she was disturbing a peaceful sanctuary. To her, this house kind of was. She tiptoed up the stairs towards Brittany's bedroom and pushed the door open.

On her stomach, facing away from the door, laid Brittany with her headphones on kicking her legs lightly back and forth. Santana saw the deep pink book open in front of her and knew Brittany must have been adding a new entry to the diary she relentlessly kept since they were seven. Every time she had asked to read something, Brittany hid it and said it was 'personal'; a boundary Santana never pressured to cross.

Santana crossed the room and passed in front of the open window which must have cast a shadow making Brittany jump and turn to see her standing there, awkwardly watching her.

"Oh my god, Santana! You scared the crap out of me!" she yelled, standing up to hit her in the arm.

Santana laughed a little and held her hands up in defense, "Sorry! I was just coming over to get your attention." She motioned towards the bed with a frown, "It's not safe to be in here with your headphones in while you're alone. What if someone came in?"

Brittany shrugged her shoulders and jumped back onto her bed slamming her diary closed. She tucked it under her pillow and looked back at the questioning look on Santana's face,"What? Lord Tubbington has been reading it, and if I can't even trust him to not read it, how can I trust you?" The words inadvertently stung Santana. _'Of course she couldn't trust her, especially after last night…'_

Brittany watched the dark cloud appear behind Santana's eyes and realized why she was there. "Oh, you came to talk about what happened." She shyly averted her eyes and started to pick at her blanket.

"Yeah," Santana started awkwardly and walked over to sit in front of Brittany on the bed, "I just, wanted to apologize."

Brittany didn't know what to say. Santana watched her continue to pick uncomfortably at loose threads.

"Apologize cause, you know, what happened," she continued uneasily. Brittany certainly wasn't making it any easier on her. But it surprised her when at last Brittany spoke up.

"Are you apologizing because you think it's a mistake?" Brittany asked sadly.

"A mistake? How could you think it was a mistake?" The words exasperatingly exited Santana's mouth.

"I don't know, maybe because you ran away?" Brittany said sarcastically. Santana had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from falling on her usual snide remarks. But it was Brittany.

"No Britt, I ran away," she didn't know how to continue without exposing herself, "I didn't want you to hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" Brittany looked up at her as the words poured out of her mouth.

"I kind of forced you to have sex with me," she was disgusted, because she knew it was true.

Brittany shook her head lightly, "If you thought you forced me, you're really dumb San."

Santana laughed darkly, "Then I guess I'm dumb."

Brittany took her hand and held it between her own, "Trust me Santana. You didn't force anything."

The sincerity in her eyes oddly scared Santana. Her disgust was now replaced with a new feeling. Fear. But fear of what?

"San, I just, I don't hate you," she squeezed her hand lightly. "Okay? How about we just forget this happened?" Brittany could tell Santana was uncomfortable with the amount of tension pulsing through the palm of her hand.

"I don't know if we can Britt." Her voice wavered significantly and Brittany pulled her in for a hug.

"We can. You were drunk, I was drunk. It didn't mean anything." She pulled back to look into Santana's dark brown eyes, "Right?"

"Yeah B. It didn't mean anything." Santana leaned back into another tight embrace. "A drunken hook-up." Santana thought back to the night; she didn't think she had ever been more sober than she was in that moment.

Brittany finally pulled back and smiled brightly at her friend. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

Santana nodded once and for the first time that day a genuine smile appeared on her face.

Brittany leaped off her bed and opened the door shuffling her towards the stairs. What Santana didn't see as she descended the stairs was the fleeting look of disappointment that passed over Brittany's face for just a brief moment.

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><p><strong>AN: For now Brittana angst will take a back seat to fluff because honestly I need it after those last few chapters. **

**Quinn's really dark in this chapter and I didn't really wanna keep her that way but I loved how it came out. Like I said before she's gonna be an emotional rollercoaster. (true to her character lol)**

**I hope I didn't disappoint anybody with this chapter! Love you all, keep reading and reviewing :)**


	11. stay forever at my side

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Moving right along into the beginning of the show. Enjoy!  
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**strungout-fullofdoubt- well thank you :D I appreciate it and i hope you keep reading :)**

**iamirreplazable- First off thanks:) but second, Rachel rejected Quinn. So not only is she dealing with her feelings, but also with her feelings being rejected (and to add in the fact that her 'boyfriend' has some interest in her would make it so much worse) she's acting out.**

**rosswellmorgana- I mean I could make her explode but I don't know if that's the best place to go with it ;) Don't worry though Britt and Santana aren't pitiful in this chapter :) cant say much for Quinn though...  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>"Can you remind me exactly why we are on the Cheerio's again?" Santana said collapsing onto Brittany's bed. Brittany chuckled and shut the door behind them moving to sit next to Santana. Santana scooted over to make room for Brittany to sit and buried her face down into the comforter.<p>

"It's fun?" Brittany tried knowing Santana was probably rolling her eyes into the bed. Santana let out a loud groan and flipped over onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

"I don't know why I let Quinn talk me into it." Brittany knew she had to just let her complain for a little bit. She decided maybe she could help her relax a little.

Brittany reached over and started massaging the muscles in Santana's thigh. She loved the feel of the smooth skin stretched tight over the defined muscle of Santana's legs. Santana let out a moan of appreciation at the sensation.

"What are you doing Britt?" She asked lazily. Brittany shot her a sly smile.

"Just helping you relax a little," she hesitated her movements, before reluctantly asking, "should I stop?"

Santana held her head up to smirk at Brittany, "Nope. Keep going." Brittany nodded and started trailing her hands down to Santana's calves. Santana dropped her head back down to the bed. "You love the Cheerio's San, even if you won't admit it. Plus it means we get to spend more time with each other…" she trailed off before amending, "and Quinn."

"Yeah…Quinn." Santana was at a loss for words with how good Brittany's hands felt on her body. Even if she forgot the massage, it was impossible to forget the trails of fire Brittany's hands were dragging across her legs. Even the slightest touch from the other girl sent a spark across her skin. She was so distracted in the magic Brittany was working on her legs to notice she had asked her a question.

"Hmm. What?" Santana said dumbly. Brittany chuckled at her and asked her question again.

"Will you turn over?" she motioned to the girl who stared at her with curious eyes.

"Why?" Santana asked nervously.

"I was going to rub your back?" Brittany was confused why she was acting so weird. They used to massage each all the time the year before.

'_But that was before…'_

"Yeah sorry, I was just um, thinking." Santana laughed and shifted onto her back fluidly. She arched a little into the pain from her lower back and Brittany saw it immediately.

"What was that? What hurts?" She moved over to run a hand across Santana's back. The polyester uniform felt awkward under her fingers. Nothing compared to the silky caramel skin underneath. She wanted to ask Santana to remove the offending article of clothing but figured she needed to be _a lot_ more relaxed for that to happen anytime soon.

"I just pulled something in my back when coach had us doing those cartwheels today," she forced a smile through the obvious discomfort of Brittany's hands working the tender spot, "Not everyone can pull off no-handed cartwheels like you, B."

Brittany smiled at the compliment but focused on kneading the tangible knot under the skin. She ignored Santana's whimpers of protest knowing that it would feel better after she worked it out.

After a while, Brittany figured the girl had relaxed enough so she might try to do away with the uncomfortable material beneath her fingertips. She wasn't trying to perv on her friend or anything but the texture of the uniform was hurting the tips of her fingers after having rubbed it for a solid half hour.

"Hey S. Do you think you could like, take off the vest of your uniform?" Brittany didn't see Santana's eyes bug out of her head at the suggestion. All her previous calm was replaced by nervousness. She didn't know why she was so uncomfortable. It had never been weird before. _'Well before…' _Santana though awkwardly. _'Oh what the hell'._

"Yeah hang on." Santana sat up and unzipped the side of her top and slipped it carelessly over her head. She never turned to face Brittany and laid back down on the bed.

Brittany felt a stir of emotions deep in her stomach at seeing the defined back of her best friend. She had to resist the urge to trace light fingers overtop every inch of the smooth skin. She wanted to memorize every inch but her sight was hindered by the black bra strap stretching across her torso.

Before too much time passed to make it awkward, she reached out and returned her hand to the spot she had been previously rubbing. She dug her fingers in and Santana's previous cries were replaced with groans of approval. The position she was in became extremely uncomfortable and without asking or thinking about the consequences she climbed atop Santana and straddled her waist. Santana turned a little rigid underneath Brittany but immediately relaxed when her hands moved up to massage the girl's shoulder blades and shoulders.

After only a few minutes had gone by, the two girls heard a door slam downstairs and they both paused what they were doing to figure out who came into the house. When they heard the obnoxious pounding of feet coming up the stairs, they immediately assumed it was Brittany's younger sister and returned to their actions; Santana stifling her moans, and Brittany stifling her impulses. They were both surprised when Brittany's door flung open to reveal Quinn who's face looked winded and annoyed.

When she spotted the two on the bed she covered her eyes and yelled out, "Ew! Okay can you two stop whatever you're doing because I need to talk to you." She turned her back to them.

Santana snickered lightly, "Qunnie you are such a drama queen. Britt was giving me back rub. Calm down."

"Whatever you say Santana. Just hurry it up." She tapped her foot impatiently against the carpeted floor.

Santana eyed Brittany and smiled throwing her uniform top over behind Quinn. She walked around the bed to get it but decided to pass by Brittany on her way. When she came into Quinn's view, she paused for a moment.

Quinn gasped lightly and turned the opposite direction. A red hue spread across her face as she said hotly, "I know you have no concept of modesty, but _I_ have no desire to see you naked."

Santana shoved the girl a little from the back and scoffed. "Everyone wants to see me naked. You should be so lucky." Brittany laughed a little and Santana gave her a playful smirk. Santana finally retrieved her top and pulled it over her head and zipped the side neatly. "Okay I'm dressed, now what was so important you had to interrupt my massage?"

Quinn turned around and sat neatly in the computer chair at Brittany's desk. "Coach wants us to join glee club." Brittany could tell Quinn was holding something else back but she didn't prod.

Santana laughed loudly, "Glee club? Are you kidding me? With those losers? Uh-uh no way. I'm not letting her destroy my reputation for a stupid scheme." She continued to mumble quiet incoherent protests when Brittany spoke up.

"Why _glee club_?" she asked looking directly at Quinn. "Do we really have one of those?"

"Yeah Britt, and apparently she has some personal vendetta with Mr. Schuester. But there's something else too." Santana stopped her complaining and gave Quinn her full attention.

"Finn joined them and I think it has something to do with Berry." Quinn said in frustration. She stressed out Rachel's last name and filled it with disgust.

Brittany and Santana exchanged puzzled glances at the new piece of information.

"Why would Finnocence join because of Berry?" Santana asked with a raised eyebrow.

Quinn shook her head, "Have you guys really never noticed much he pays attention to her? They were friends when they were little and I think he never got over it."

"That's ridiculous Q. Finn loves you, you guys have been together since before I knew how to ride a bike." Brittany said honestly.

Quinn stared confusedly at Brittany's words. She looked over to Santana who shook her head a little and held back a laugh but sported a knowing smile.

"Britt, we've been dating since we were in seventh grade…" Quinn tried not to hurt Brittany's feelings.

"Yeah…and?" Brittany turned her puzzled expression to Santana who only shrugged in response.

"Nevermind, anyway we need to do it. For Coach," Quinn paused for a moment and turned away to look out the window, "and for me."

Santana was about to object again but was stopped by a firm hand on her thigh. She followed the arm up into Brittany's face. Brittany was looking at her, silently pleading for Santana to help out Quinn. Santana breathed out a sigh and relented with a nod. Brittany flashed a toothy smile at Santana and turned her attention back to Quinn, who was still staring out the window. She was actually really excited to join the glee club. She knew it was another chance to dance; without the torturous exercise and offending insults that came with her spot on the Cheerio's.

"We'll do it, Q," Brittany said excitedly. Quinn turned around and flashed a timid smile to her friends.

"Great." She got up to exit the room and turned around once she reached the closed door. "Thanks." She added simply and left the two girls.

"Well she was _really_ appreciative," Santana said and threw herself back across the bed. "Why'd you make me do that B?" she asked Brittany who had returned to lie next to her on the bed.

"She's our friend, and she may act like a bitch but she's always there for you." She turned on her side and placed a hand on her friend's stomach. She traced light circles with her fingers as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Yeah, your right." Brittany tiptoed her fingers over Santana's stomach to her forearm and started redrawing circles into the muscle. "I'm just sayin, if we're joining glee club we have to make it look good. I ain't being a loser like that singing midget."

The pair laughed a little and Brittany put on a straight face to add, "Oh come on, San. Do we ever not make something look _good_?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Santana felt her face get a little hot.

They laid in comfortable silence as Brittany continued to trace her fingertips across Santana's skin and Santana idly ran her fingers through long blonde hair after tugging out the girl's ponytail. Neither spoke but chose to say enveloped in the moment. To Santana, the silence was deafening and to Brittany it was comforting.

"Do you wanna go somewhere with me?" Brittany asked abruptly. She sat up quickly with a grin plastered across her face.

Santana eyed her suspiciously and fought to hold back a smirk at her friend, "Where are we going?"

Brittany playfully scoffed, "It's not fun if I tell you where we're going. It will be a surprise." Her smile grew wilder.

"I hate surprises." Santana said playfully. Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the bed and started them walking out of the house.

"You'll love this one. I promise."

* * *

><p>"Finn, can I talk to you?" Quinn walked into the Hudson household and spotted her boyfriend instantly on the couch zoned out on whatever football game was on. He didn't acknowledge that he heard her and she continued to walk towards him until she stood right behind him and said his name again.<p>

"Wha-What?" He turned around to see her standing behind him with both hands on her hips. "Quinn? When did you get here?" he asked awkwardly, fearing he was in trouble for something.

"Just now. You know, stepped through the door, called your name, was ignored. The usual," she said spitefully and crossed in front of the TV to sit on the couch next to his chair. Quinn couldn't help but notice him trying to shuffle his head so he didn't miss a second of the game. "I need to talk to you."

He didn't turn his head away but asked, "What about?"

Quinn gritted her teeth at his behavior but continued anyway, "What do you think you're doing joining glee club?"

He tried to control an eye roll at her tone but looked at her anyway, "Mr. Shue told me if I joined I could get some extra credit to pass Spanish. Plus," he returned his head to the TV, "I kinda like it."

"So you like being a loser?" she said nastily. "Or you like hanging out with losers?" She had to get to the point of her questioning eventually and figured that was a good segue.

Finn tore his head away from the screen as it turned to a commercial and said softly, "They aren't losers."

"Really? There's the cripple, the Asian girl who can't say a single word without stuttering, the gay-kid—"

"His name is Kurt," Finn said quietly trying to defend his friends.

"…and don't even get me started on Manhands." She cringed to think about the girl but shooed the thoughts away quickly.

"Don't call her that, Quinn. She's really nice. A little scary, but still nice." Finn said a little firmer. His tone changed and he mumbled quietly, "Maybe you should try that sometime."

Quinn heard every word, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Finn said with disinterest. "Forget it."

"Oh, so I'm not nice enough. Maybe you should date RuPaul then Finn. If you're so obviously into that kind of thing."

"Maybe I should." Finn said confidently. He was getting fed up with her insults.

Quinn was at a loss for words at the moment. This conversation had taken a turn that she was wholly unprepared for.

"What are you saying, Finn?" she questioned angrily.

"I'm saying I think we should break up," he said determinedly. "You treat me like crap. I'm sick of it."

"You don't get to break up with me," she yelled. "I treat you like crap? Is that why you can't even take the time to properly look at me while you're _breaking_ up with me?"

Quinn was furious. She stood up and stalked in front of Finn before leaning down and placing a swift slap across his face. She stomped outside his house and slammed the door heavily behind her. She started to run down the sidewalk not knowing where to go. Her legs burned underneath her but she couldn't stop them from charging forward. She felt tears spilling down her face and tried to swipe them away without losing her balance. Quinn just wanted to forget everything that happened. She wanted to escape and there was only once place she knew to go for any hope of that.

Her legs came to a halt in front of an all too familiar front porch. Quinn didn't know what she was going but knew whatever was happening was a mistake. But this was her only option. She slowly climbed the front stairs and placed a few firm knocks on the door, praying to God that there was no one on the other side of the door.

The wooden door swung open slowly revealing the person Quinn wanted to see the least and most all at once.

"Quinnie, what brings you to chez-Puckerman?" Puck asked with a smirk across his face.

Quinn pushed past him and entered the house. The mohawked boy closed the door and followed her up the stairs.

"Well, okay then." He said mischievously.

* * *

><p>"We're almost there." Brittany smiled from ear to ear. Santana wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.<p>

Santana knew where they were going, she had figured it out the second Brittany remembered what direction they needed to be going in, but she was still playing along to humor her friend.

"I still don't have any idea where we are," she said and scratched her head for effect. She could see the park sign off in the distance and ignored it.

They neared the wooden board and Brittany walked right past it unaware of the fact that Santana was feigning a shocked face.

"The park?" Santana said confusedly. "Wow I didn't see this coming at all B." She smiled genuinely at the girl who only shook her head in response.

"This isn't the surprise." Brittany smirked and walked on. She called back over her shoulder, "It's in the park but this isn't it."

"Oh," Santana said dumbly. She quickly caught up with her and hooked an arm through Brittany's. "Well I really have no clue where we are going then."

Brittany smiled sideways at Santana and tugged her hurriedly forward. When they got halfway through the park she stopped and Santana stumbled forward unaware they were not moving anymore.

"What, B?" Santana asked curiously. Brittany had an overwhelming grin on her face as she surveyed the park.

"This place is just so…special." she flashed a quick smile to Santana before spinning slowly and taking in every sight surrounding them.

Night had fallen and the only light was provided from a few oddly placed lampposts and the bright stars scattered across the sky. The moon hung eerily behind scattered clouds that shadowed the luminescent figure. The air was crisp in preparation for fall and Brittany shivered a bit. She wasn't uncomfortable but the motion caused Santana to move close behind her and wrap two warm arms around her waist to provide a little warmth. They were both still in their Cheerio's uniforms so the embrace was the only blanket protecting them from the light breeze.

"It's just a park, Britt," Santana whispered softly into her ear, spreading another shiver down Brittany's spine, but one she minded less.

"No it isn't, San," Brittany said happily. "This park is magical." Santana chuckled lightly and the vibration felt good against Brittany's back.

Brittany broke away and re-laced their arms together and dragged Santana further into the park. "C'mon, we aren't to the surprise yet."

They walked further into the park until Brittany spotted the swing-set that sat close to the water's edge. When they got close to it, a wide smile appeared on Santana's face.

"Surprise!" Brittany called out loudly and Santana looked at her grinning.

"This is your surprise?" she asked playfully. "A swing-set?"

Brittany's face turned into a pout. "It's not just _a_ swing set, it's _the _swing-set, _our_ swing-set." She crossed her arms in a huff.

Santana laughed a little and walked over to wrap her arms back around Brittany's shoulders. She kissed Brittany's cheek lightly. Brittany relaxed and wrapped her arms around Santana's waist and her pout was replaced with an identical smile to Santana's, "I know that B. I was just kidding. This is where we met."

"The most-favorite day of my life," Brittany admitted with a nod.

"Mine too," Santana said honestly and hugged Brittany tighter.

"Promise?" Brittany asked with a childlike tone and an impish smile to match it. She held up her hand and extended her pinky to Santana. She winked as Santana loosened her grip to meet Brittany's finger with her own.

She intertwined their pinkies and said softly, "Promise."

Brittany broke away from Santana and walked over to sit on the swing and motioned for Santana to join her.

"Britt, I don't think we're gonna fit. We aren't 5 anymore." She joked.

"So? Sit on my lap." Brittany said and motioned again for Santana to join her.

Santana chuckled and moved over to sit on top of her legs. Brittany wrapped both arms around her waist and kicked off the ground with one foot.

The pair worked their best to get the swing moving, but struggled with coordinating their movements.

"Brittany let me do the chain and you swing your legs," Santana instructed trying to shake her hands away from the long chain holding the swing and them up.

They eventually got the swing moving pretty fluidly and enjoyed the moment in silence. When it started to slow down, Brittany hugged Santana a little tighter.

"B? You're kinda cutting off my air supply." Santana struggled but Brittany didn't loosen her grip.

"Santana, will you promise me something?" Brittany asked seriously.

"Of course, Britt-Britt. What?" Santana questioned.

"We're going to be best friends forever right?" Brittany shifted her statement into an unsure question.

"Why would you ask that?" Santana asked, genuinely interested in what brought the topic up.

"Nothing, just will you promise me that?" Brittany said hurriedly.

"Brittany," Santana turned on Brittany's lap and looked at her, "we are going to be best friends forever and then some. I swear on my life." She stared into the bright blue eyes to solidify her words in Brittany's mind.

"Good. Cause I love you, and you're my favorite." Brittany said and kicked off the ground to get them moving again.

Santana chuckled softly, "I love you too. And you're definitely my favorite." She reached a hand down to tickle Brittany's thigh.

"San, stop," Brittany said, struggling to keep her composure.

"Oh I'm sorry," she paused her movements, "does _this_," she started to tickle Brittany's legs with more force, "tickle?"

Brittany threw her legs around trying to stop Santana from attacking her. One wrong twist sent them to the ground in a fit of laughter.

"Good job S," Brittany said though her laughter.

"Whatever, if you wouldn't have struggled we wouldn't have fell," she argued playfully.

"Oh sorry I couldn't stay still with someone _tickling_me," she moved to jab a few fingers into Santana's sides causing her to flail around.

"Britt stop, stop! Okay I'm sorry you were right. Stop!" Santana exclaimed trying to halt Brittany's movements.

Brittany eventually stopped and stood up and stretched her hands out to pull Santana up to her feet. Once at eye-level the two stared for a second at each other before Brittany reached her arms up and circled them around Santana's neck. Santana didn't hesitate to wrap her arms lightly around Brittany's waist.

"Thanks for this, B," Santana said softly. "This was fun. It was exactly what we needed after…" she stopped. Santana hadn't meant to say the last part out loud but when she was around Brittany all of her filters were lifted.

Brittany looked behind her head awkwardly for a minute before returning her gaze to Santana's soft gaze. She leaned in lightly and softly peck to Santana's plump lips. She pulled back to watch Santana with her eyes closed and could tell she was over thinking it.

"It's okay, San. Just forget about it. I'm not upset about anything. Okay?" Brittany said sweetly trying to alleviate some of the tension between them.

Santana finally opened her eyes and stared softly into the shining blue eyes watching her, "Yeah B. Okay."

Brittany dropped her arms and Santana followed suit. They started walking out of the park without speaking and followed the trail to the sidewalk leading back to Brittany' house.

When they reached the exit, Brittany stretched her hand out and linked her pinky with Santana's and shot a sideways smile at the girl. Santana returned the smile affectionately and the pair walked silently towards home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah I needed babygate, so there's babygate :D**

**Wow it's such a nice change to write happy Brittana. **

**I was talking to my friend about this story cause he's reading it and I was telling him how I feel like I made Puck a one-dimensional sexist joke. It was totally not on purpose, but I think it's kinda funny to keep him that way. Thoughts?**

**Thanks :D**


	12. please don't walk away from me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Kurt shows up in this chapter and he will probably be here to stay.  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Kurt stood at his locker and rearranged the newest additions to his hairspray bottles when something came up behind him and wrapped arms around his waist. He was startled, very unsure of who was touching him.<p>

"Uh-who-um?" he tried say, but was struggling to breathe under the pressure on his abdomen.

"Hey Kurt!" Brittany said excitedly. She released him after a few seconds and he turned around with curious eyes.

"Hello, Brittany..." Kurt looked around the hallway to see if Brittany was being used as a distraction for an unexpected slushie attack.

Brittany noticed him scouring the hallways and turned back to look at him with a disappointed pout. "Nobody is going to slushie you Kurt..." she said timidly. He eyed her downtrodden appearance and put on a smile.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said kindly, and then he perked up significantly, "How can I help you?" Brittany's face lit up and she wrapped an arm in his as they began to walk down the hallway.

"Okay so I know we aren't really friends, mostly because Santana said I didn't need to make any visits to the mayor of gay-town," Kurt huffed a little but she continued unaffected. "Is that hard?" she asked seriously.

"Is what hard?" he asked confusedly.

"Being the mayor of a _whole_ town." She waited diligently for an answer. Kurt looked around the hallway unsure of what to say he just shook his head lightly.

"Oh, well good. Anyways I wanted to see if you'd like to hang out with me after school," Brittany asked with a grin.

"Umm, well…okay Britt, don't take this the wrong way but you know I'm _gay_ right? As in, I like _boys_." Kurt dipped his head and tilted it to the side to make sure she understood what he was saying.

Brittany chuckled, "I know that. I meant as friends." She beamed a toothy grin at him and he had trouble trying to find a way to decline her offer.

"Oh well…sure!" he chirped when he noticed her face start to fall again.

Brittany flashed him another dazzling smile and dropped his arm before walking away backwards calling out loudly, "Great well I'll see you in glee!" A few of the surrounding students eyed her curiously and when they followed her gaze to Kurt they scowled in disgust.

'_Some things never change.' he thought sadly._

* * *

><p>The choir room was packed with anticipation knowing they were going to pick their set list for sectionals. Santana and Brittany sat at the back and tossed tiny pieces of ripped up paper into Mercedes' weave. They laughed when she never caught them, and Artie looked back every few minutes trying to hold back his smirk.<p>

Rachel sauntered into the room with little enthusiasm, sending a wave of panic and confusion over the rest of the club. She took a seat at the back behind Puck who was busy trying to flirt with Quinn. She tried to ignore his advances, but had to laugh at some of his more obscure pickup lines. Rachel watched Quinn drop her gaze to her stomach and run a hand slowly over the bump hidden under her blouse. Quinn had a look of discomfort for a second; when it was erased she grabbed Puck's hand and placed it on her stomach. Rachel assumed the baby had been kicking and she watched the wonderment fall over Noah's face. He marveled at the sensation and his eyes welled up for a brief second before he pulled away and steeled his expression.

Rachel watched their emotional exchange with fleeting happiness. She felt her guilt ridden body tremble knowing any minute the happy moment was going to be destroyed. But she also watched the scene with an underlying sense of anger… or…jealousy?

Rachel thought back to when Quinn and Finn had told the group about their predicament.

"_Finn!" Mr. Schuester yelled out, trying to snap him back into awareness. Finn abruptly realized what was happening and tripped over his own feet tumbling into Rachel and Tina. The three crashed to the ground and he immediately jumped to his feet apologizing and pulling them to their feet._

"_I'm so sorry guys. I was just…zoning out." He muttered apologetically. They waved him off but turned to each other exchanging exasperated looks. Their curly-headed teacher walked over and put a hand on his shoulder steadying him. _

"_Are you okay?" he asked voice dripping with concern. Quinn eyed the conversation wearily from the back of the choir room and wished Finn would just stay out of the spotlight for a while. _

_Everyone watched a mixture of emotions pool across Finn's face before he broke down and turned tear-filled eyes to Quinn, who still watched him in anticipation. She walked up to the front of the room and pulled his hand into hers. _

"_Don't," she whispered simply. She shook her head trying to stop what she knew was inevitable. 'Why did I even go back to him?' she thought angrily. She knew if she told everyone Puck was the father her reputation would be destroyed even further than it already was. 'Here goes…' she thought sadly watching her power slip ungraciously through his fingertips._

"_We need to tell everyone something," Finn started with his eyes pounding into the tile floor. Everyone circled closer to the front of the room and watched them intently. Quinn was unable to stop the tears streaming effortlessly down her face. She chose not to say anything. Brittany sidled up to her side and took her hand in an effort to calm her down. _

"_What is it, Finn?" Mr. Schuester asked solemnly, fearing he already knew what was happening. _

"_Qu-Quinn's…" he struggled through large tears, "she's pregnant." He got out before turning and exiting the room. _

_Everyone let out gasps. Their teacher ran out after Finn, leaving the classroom alone and full of awkward glances. Mercedes, Tina and Kurt shook their head in disbelief, Santana covered her mouth and stared intensely at Quinn, Brittany did her best to comfort her trembling friend, and most of the boys returned uncomfortably to their seats. _

_The only other person left standing was Puck. His dark eyes shifted around the room trying to find an object that would distract his thoughts long enough from processing the information. _

_He knew what it meant._

_Before he could stop himself, his eyes landed on big hazel ones staring relentlessly into his own. He couldn't move. Their locked eyes held them both in place as Quinn poured confirmation into every part of his body. _

_A quiet voice was the only thing that pulled the Quinn's eyes off her target._

"_Quinn…" Rachel said softly. "Are you…do you…" she couldn't figure out what to say. For the girl who was never caught speechless, words failed her. Quinn's eyes traced around her tiny features before tears returned for a second wave. She swiped at them and looked down on Rachel with what she knew was blame. Every vibe she felt rolling off of the visibly-shaking girl in front of her, hinted she was the cause of this. And Rachel didn't understand why, but she was overtaken with a large heaping of guilt. _

_She hated Quinn. How could she make this feel like her fault? She wasn't the one who slept with Finn. _

_Before she mustered the courage to confront her, Quinn turned quickly out of Brittany's grasp and exited the classroom. Rachel caught eyes with Brittany who hung her head in defeat. Brittany gave her a sympathetic smile, but was unaware as to what prompted the look from her. She looked over towards Santana, who sat shell-shocked in the front row shaking her head. _

'_Q wouldn't…she wasn't…they were,' Santana thought trying to form one coherent idea. Brittany walked over and plopped uncharacteristically heavy into the seat next to her. She latched onto the bottom leg of Santana's chair and wrenched her chair closer to her own and laid her head down across her shoulder. _

_Santana ran light fingers through Brittany's ponytail. _

"_She's so sad, S," Brittany whispered. She reached up to wipe a tear away._

"_I know, B," Rachel heard Santana said comfortingly. _

Rachel looked around the classroom and saw how everyone had bounced back tremendously since then. The news they all thought would rock the club, actually brought them closer. They were all more friendly and inviting towards each other.

Rachel hung her head in shame. And what she had just done was going to rip them apart.

As if on cue with her thoughts a fuming Finn tore into the room. All eyes fell on him as he marched up to Puck and ripped him from his seat, throwing him to the floor. A few shocked gasps fell from other members' mouths as Finn started punching him in the face relentlessly.

"What the hell man? Get off!" Puck furiously shouted. Mr. Schuester ran into the room and hauled Finn up by his shoulders.

"Finn, what are you doing?" he yelled trying to separate the two boys. Puck had regained his footing and was trying to return the beating he just received. "Puck!" Their teacher yelled and forced him back.

"I'm not the father. He is!" Finn raged. Everyone looked at each other with shameful stares. Finn glanced around the room and a wave of realization fell over him.

"You all knew?" He ignored Quinn's broken expression to trail over every single member of glee club. They all turned their eyes away from him unable to bear his accusatory eyes.

"How could-how could you do this to me?" Quinn didn't realize the boy finally had directed the question to her. He stormed up to her and shouted in her face, "I didn't even _want_ to be with you." His voiced dropped to a hurt whisper, "But you lied to me? A-About this. What is wrong with you?"

She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. She felt like she was drowning in guilt. She didn't want to be with Finn, but Quinn knew she still loved him. And she had broken him.

Finn stood straight and looked around the room. "Whatever. I'm done with this. I'm done with you," he pointed a harsh finger at Quinn, who shook as sobs wracked her body, "And I'm done with this stupid club." He marched out of the door.

No one wanted to break the silence. Mr. Schuester walked over to place a comforting hand on Quinn's shoulder before she stood and made a silent exit.

Rachel sat in the back of the room and observed the scene before her. Everyone stumbled through the thick air trying to reclaim a sense of ordinary.

_This_ was her fault. Quinn would blame her. And she had every right.

Rachel stood and started towards the door. Mr. Schuster raised his head and questioned her, "Rachel where are you going?"

"I-I just…I have to go to talk to her." She said nervously.

"Why would she want to talk to _you_," Santana shot bitterly. If anyone was going to comfort her friend, it should be her.

Brittany placed a soft hand on the Santana's thigh and shook her head. "Go Rach," she said firmly.

Rachel nodded her head and walked out of the room. Santana whipped her head to look at her friend who had a confident stare.

"Why did you do that B?" she questioned Brittany hardly.

Brittany shook her head lightly and the tiniest smile she would permit crossed her lips, "You still don't get it do you?"

* * *

><p>Quinn sat on a bench in an alcove off the main hallway. She would appear calm to anyone passing by but her insides churned with a myriad of emotions all at once. She didn't know it was possible to feel this overwhelmed by <em>feelings<em>.

'_I am pregnant though…' _she thought bitterly, snapping her mind back to the previous five minutes. Was that really all it had been? Five minutes and her life had crumbled once again. She didn't know if there was much more she could take at this point.

As messed up as the situation was, at least Finn knew the truth. He would hate her. He would resent her. But he was free. She gave him that.

No, not her. She didn't do anything. So how did Finn find out? Her mind drifted to one name. A name she constantly fought to keep out of her mind; a fight she often lost.

'_Rachel…'_

"Quinn?" A tiny voice pulled her out of her confusion and centered her focus. She would know _her_ voice if it whispered across a crowded room. And that terrified her.

Rachel slowly approached Quinn and they locked eyes. She suddenly lost all train of thought. She had a speech prepared from the second she exited the door. She _was_ Rachel Berry after all. But the second she saw deep hazel-eyes peering into her, she forgot it all. She could do nothing but stand and wait for her tormentor to release her.

Quinn couldn't pull her eyes off Rachel. She should hate her. Rachel was the reason for everything. The reason she was now a laughing-stock. The reason she was alone. The reason for _so_ many things. But she didn't hate her.

Quinn broke the silence quietly, "Why did you do it? Why did you tell him? Did you think he was going to come running to you?" As she kept asking, the words came out more heated and spiteful.

Rachel shook her head and slowly padded over to the bench sitting down lightly next to Quinn. She didn't think Quinn would attack her. Not in school at least. Rachel tested the waters.

"I don't know…" she finally answered after settling uncomfortably into the seat, "Maybe."

Quinn sighed heavily. Her heart felt like a dead weight in her chest. "He broke up with me you know," she paused, "For you."

Rachel's head hung further. "Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.

"You should know. You're getting what you want." Quinn's voice wavered. She fought to hold back tears. _'You've cried enough today,' _she thought firmly.

"Why did you lie to him? Why did you go back to him?" Rachel said hurriedly. She felt her own heart cracking under the weight of the moment.

"Let me ask you one question before I answer you." Quinn reclaimed her strength and turned to finally face Rachel, who kept her eyes trained on her hands. They fidgeted relentlessly in her lap.

"Why do you want him, Rachel?" Quinn let the question out freely and a tiny part of her heart felt lighter. She never took her eyes off Rachel.

Rachel's eyes darted all over the floor before sighing and turning to face Quinn. She saw the hurt etched across Quinn's expression and searched so hard for words to relieve any of her pain. She knew lying wouldn't make this situation any better so she answered her as honestly as she could.

"He's the only person in this school who is nice to me," she said quietly. She uttered it as if she were spouting facts. Rachel listened to her own voice and didn't recognize the tone. For someone who spent hours training her voice, she should recognize what this was. She couldn't.

Quinn's heart broke at her confession. She watched Rachel's face twitch with concern and confusion. She wished she knew what was really going on inside her head.

It was her turn to answer. She dug down deep to pull the courage to make her next statement. She had no idea where the confidence came from, but she figured at this point she had nothing else to lose by being honest.

"I didn't want him to have you," she said simply. Rachel's face cleared of conflict but was overtaken with confusion. Quinn saw anger flash behind her eyes and knew Rachel was controlling it. For what reason she didn't know. If she were Rachel, she would have hit her by now.

'_She wouldn't hit a pregnant girl would she?' _Quinn wondered, before dismissing it ridiculously_. _

"You're lying," Rachel replied. Quinn arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Before she had a chance to answer , Rachel had stood up and stormed away.

'_What just happened?' _she thought watching Rachel's retreating figure.

She should have been used to seeing Rachel walk away at this point but the sight still sent a fresh sting to her heart.

* * *

><p>"Brittany can I ask you a question?" Kurt asked sitting across the table from Brittany, who was sipping her drink making sure to get all of the whip cream and no coffee.<p>

She stopped and put her drink back down on the table before looking over at him with a smile, "Sure."

"Why are we here?" he asked awkwardly. They had been seated at the Lima Bean for twenty minutes and hadn't really spoken since their initial hellos.

"I want to talk to you about something," She mumbled quietly, "But you have to promise me something first." She extended her pinky finger to Kurt who looked on curiously.

"What, Britt?" he inquired. She nodded towards her outstretched finger before he sighed and wrapped his own pinky around hers.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone." Kurt wanted to laugh at her childish behavior, but her serious face made him rethink and instead, he nodded silently.

Brittany twitched uncomfortably in her seat to scan the crowd of customers to make sure there wasn't anyone they knew present. She searched twice as hard for Santana. She had said she was going right to Quinn's after school to talk to her but for all Brittany knew she could have been bringing her there.

"Brittany," Kurt said impatiently. He didn't know what was going on but the anticipation was killing him.

"Sorry," she started softly, "I just wanna know something about you."

"Okay," Kurt said, leading her to ask her question.

"How did you know you were, well, lady-fabulous?" She muttered quietly. A red hue flashed onto her face and Kurt was shocked. He had never seen her embarrassed before.

"Are you asking how did I know I was gay?" Kurt asked with a smirk. Brittany nodded her head slightly. She turned her eyes to search the crowd again.

"Well Britt, I just never noticed girls. When everyone else was sneaking off to kiss behind the playground, I was deciding what shoes perfectly matched the tiara I stole from Rachel's backpack."

"You never once thought about hooking up with a girl?" she asked curiously.

"No. I mean I used to think I had crushes on girls, but that was just because I knew I was supposed to," he said honestly and Brittany brought her elbow down to the table to perch her hand on top of her fist.

"Hmm." She hummed for a second thinking of her next question. "So…do you…" she trailed off insecurely.

"Out with it woman. I didn't miss Oprah to come here for two questions," Kurt said playfully.

Brittany smiled genuinely and continued, "Do you think you can have feelings for girls and boys?"

Kurt smiled knowingly. He finally understood why she was so curious about him. "Yes Brittany. I do. I think you can have feelings for whoever you want to have them for." He paused before leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice, "Can I ask you a question now?"

She dropped her contemplhtive expression to smile back at him, "Mhm."

"Who do you like Britt?" He grinned from ear to ear as he watched the shock play over her face.

"What? I-I don't like anyone," She sputtered out. Her face burned red again and Kurt couldn't help but laugh at her disheveled look. Her face dropped at his laughter and she buried her gaze in the wooden table and picked at the imperfections.

Kurt saw the distress wash over her face and ceased his chuckling. He reached across the table and placed one pale hand on top of her restless fingers. "Aw, Britt, I'm sorry. I wasn't making fun of you. I've just never seen you so flustered before."

She kept her eyes averted and mumbled softly, "This isn't easy for me you know."

He felt terribly guilty. Of all people, Brittany was the one person who he hated to see upset. Hell, everyone did.

He squeezed her hand once, "I'm sorry. I really am. Just talk to me. It's okay. If there's one person who's going to understand, it's me."

Brittany gained a little courage and brought her eyes up to his reassuring face. She smiled lightly. "It's…a girl."

Kurt practically squealed with excitement even though he had pretty much figured it out by then. It honestly surprised him that she was so shy to admit having feelings for someone; he, along with the entire school, knew she didn't have a problem with her _forwardness_ when it came to dating. But the sincerity in her eyes told him that this wasn't just another fling for Brittany and he was eager to hear what girl had stolen her heart.

"Are you going to tell me who it is?" he asked playfully and squeezed her hand one more time soothingly.

"Remember your promise okay?" she stated firmly. "It's Santana."

Kurt's jaw practically hit the table. He stared wide-eyed at Brittany, who searched every inch of his face trying to figure out why he hadn't said anything. He certainly didn't react the way he did before.

"Kurt?" she asked shyly. This broke Kurt out of his thoughts and he jumped to life with questions.

"Wait, Santana? Why? Does she like you? Have you told her? Oh my god I totally knew it. When did you find out? What are you going to do?" he churned out question after question not even pausing to breathe until Brittany interrupted him.

"Kurt!" he ceased his endless drabble. "Calm down. Can you say those slower maybe?" she asked with a chuckle.

Kurt cleared his throat and tried to hide his overflowing grin. "When did you know?"

Brittany rolled her eyes up as if she was thinking really hard. "I want to say when we kissed for the first time when we were ten. But I think I've always known."

Kurt practically gushed across the table, "Aw, that is so adorable." Brittany smiled sweetly. Thoughts of valentines rushed back into her head and her smile grew remembering the kiss they shared in the classroom. She remembered the shocked smile Santana spouted after she pulled away. She had an idea before, but that's when she knew for sure. When she saw that smile and knew no other sight would make her heart explode with such joy.

"Does she know?" Kurt continued giddily.

Brittany sighed and sat back in her chair. "I don't think so."

He arched an eyebrow in response. "Why haven't you told her?"

"She'll freak out. What if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't handle that. I'll lose my best friend," She said dejectedly. Kurt watched the pooling in the bright blue eyes that he saw for the first time without their shimmer.

Kurt reached his other hand over and now held both of Brittany's hands and forced her to look right into his eyes. "You're not going to lose her. She is a mean, bitchy person," her eyes lit up with anger for a second before he continue, "But not to you. I've never seen her be…_kind_…like she is with you. She's even mean to Quinn and they've been friends forever. She looks at you differently." He paused before reasserting once more, "You won't lose her Britt. Trust me."

Brittany smiled wide and sat up in her chair. She tugged her hands out of Kurt's and picked up her cup, sipping long from the edge. He eyed her before picking up his own cup and smiling as he brought it to his lips. After a few silent moments she dropped her gaze back to the table. "Thanks Kurt. I really needed to talk to somebody."

"Anytime." He said before finishing off his cup and standing up to leave. She watched his figure approach the door and then turn around once more to send her a kind smile and wave.

Brittany's eyes returned to her drink and swiveled the straw around in her mouth before standing up to leave. Maybe Kurt was right. Maybe she had a chance. Maybe she should just tell her.

Maybe.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading :D Review if you'd like ! **

**Btw Kurt & Brittany friendship is here to stay. **


	13. i'd show you if you'd let me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Think Power of Madonna. I didn't have much to say in this chapter but as I kept writing I started loving it more and more. There will be one more and then Regionals which to be quite honest is a chapter I've been waiting to write for so long. I might have skipped class to write this chapter...maybe... :D**

**Thank you for all the reviews! I'm glad everyone liked Kurt. I had him in mind when figuring out how this ends (which sorry if its a disappointment but that wont be for a while) and I needed to finally introduce him. You'll see more of him next chapter. But anyways thanks !  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>Santana closed the door to Finn's pickup truck and slowly walked towards her front porch. When she reached the stairs, a voice stopped her in her tracks.<p>

"San?" Brittany said quietly from a soft wooden bench in the far part of the Lopez's front yard. Santana saw her draped across the arms of the seat and slowly made her way over.

"Britt what are you doing?" She asked quietly. Santana picked up her legs and sat down, replacing Brittany's legs on top of her lap.

"Wes Brody's mom told me to leave her son alone. I just tried to take him to Breadstix but she freaked out and threatened to call the cops. So I ran here." Brittany brought her head down from staring at the cloudy sky to look at Santana's disheveled appearance. "Where were you?"

Santana looked around trying to keep her eyes away from Brittany. She felt like if those piercing-blues caught her own, she wouldn't be able to hold back shameful tears. "I was...with Finn." She muttered quietly.

When Santana didn't add anything else Brittany nodded her head in understanding. "Oh."

"Yeah..." Santana said awkwardly. Brittany removed her legs from Santana's lap and turned to sit upright in her seat.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" she hurriedly said.

"Sure Britts," Santana answered with a smile.

"When you have sex with Finn, or Puck, or any of those guys does it ever feel...I don't know...like empty?" Brittany stared deeply into her wavering eyes. Santana's gaze flitted restlessly across Brittany's face trying to fully comprehend the question.

"Sometimes," she answered softly after a few moments. "I've only really had one time where it didn't feel like that..."she trailed off and was suddenly very thankful for the dark night masking her blush.

A bright smile lit up Brittany's face. She reached down and grabbed her hand lightly. "When was that?" she asked with a smirk. She had noticed the red hue growing on Santana's face since her admission.

Santana looked up with a playful scowl, "Why are you asking? It seems like you already know." She jokingly squeezed Brittany's hand.

"I just want to hear you say it." Brittany's smile diminished quickly as she steeled her face. "I won't even comment. Just let it out." She struggled to fight the smirk forming on the right side of her face.

Santana sighed for show. "There was this girl. Taller than me. Blonde I think?" Brittany smacked her lightly on the arm. "Yeah, definitely blonde. But I feel bad about it."

"Whys that?" Brittany asked with a frown. Santana dropped her playful smile and her eyes grew somber.

"I kinda took advantage of her in a closet." She paused to assess her reaction. When she was sure Brittany wasn't upset, she continued. "I didn't want it to go down like that."

Brittany perked up a little. "How did you want it to go?" she asked calmly.

Santana turned her head up and stared into the starry sky. The clouds had drifted away from above them, casting the bright twinkling lights down across the lawn. "It would have been romantic. Definitely dinner first." She paused to shoot a glance over at Brittany. She seemed lost in imagining her description.

Brittany imagined a 5 course dinner, probably at Breadstix, where she and Santana would exchange longing glances and playful touches as they made their way through the meal.

Santana continued as a smile grew on her face, "Maybe a little dancing…"

Brittany imagined a starry night, not unlike the one surrounding them, where they could dance under the moonlight. She couldn't imagine music, but instead they moved in silence, creating their own beat.

"Then we would have gone back to my house—my parents wouldn't be home, I'd make sure we'd be alone—and I would have led you casually up the stairs. And then it would happen. Not rushed, not forced. Just, happen," Santana ended on a hopeful note. She was feeling very vulnerable with her confession and tried to keep her concentration off of Brittany. She didn't understand why she had told her any of that, but to her it felt like an explanation she deserved after what Santana had put her through.

When Brittany didn't break the silence, Santana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Santana tried to diffuse the tension by cracking a joke. "Sounds corny right?" she laughed lightly.

When she finally turned to Brittany, she saw the tears streaming carelessly down her cheeks. She immediately moved over to wipe the wetness away. "Aw Britt, I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

Instead of answering Brittany slammed her lips passionately into Santana's. She placed heavy kisses first to her bottom lip, then her top and moving away entirely to trail them down her neck. Santana pulled Brittany into her lap and ran her fingers gently over Brittany's back. Her hand's settled at the bottom of her back and she pulled Brittany as close to her own body as she could. Brittany rocked her hips downward once out of instinct and Santana let out a moan that she tried to muffle against Brittany's shoulder. Brittany traced her light pecks up Santana's neck and settled placing an open-mouthed kiss beneath her ear.

Between breaths, she whispered softly, "Where are your parents?"

Santana's eyes snapped open to survey her empty driveway. She tried to focus her thoughts long enough through Brittany's light teasing of her neck to remember where her parents were that evening. She vaguely remembered something about a party. A fundraiser? She let out another whimper when Brittany's lips met her own again and forced them apart. Brittany slipped her tongue in gently, slowly massaging Santana's, who had yet to react since she was still trying to place her parent's whereabouts.

Santana recalled the conversation with her parents.

'_We're going to a hospital fundraiser tonight. A lot of the big board-members are coming tonight so the Chief of Medicine recommended we be there. It's at a convention center in Columbus so we will be staying the night." Her father spoke to her as she sifted through her cereal in the morning._

"_When will you be back?" she asked, extremely uninterested in the conversation. _

"_Around noon tomorrow," her mother tapped her head uncertainly, "Yeah noon should be right."_

That was all Santana needed to hear. She pushed Brittany lightly off her lap and stood, pulling her to her feet. "Let's go. They won't be home til tomorrow." She dragged the girl to her front door and stopped, realizing it was locked. Frustrated, she pulled her key from under the waistband of her Cheerio's skirt and moved to unlock the door.

Brittany stepped in close behind her and placed two hands firmly against Santana's hips. She ran her thumbs lightly against the smooth skin underneath the hem of her top while placing light kisses against the sides of Santana's neck.

"Britt," she whispered huskily. Santana almost dropped the key, focusing too heavily on the heavenly caress of Brittany's fingertips against her skin. She focused long enough to unlock the door and pulled her swiftly over the mantle. The second it slammed shut, she had Brittany up against the hard door. She grabbed both of her hands and slammed them against the door above her head. Santana placed lighter kisses to both of Brittany's already swollen lips trying to slow them down a little bit. After all she didn't want it to feel like the last time. '_This should have been our first time. No alcohol, nobody around, and a bed,'_ she thought.

A bed. She felt herself being pushed against her soft mattress before she realized Brittany already had dragged them up the stairs. Santana looked past her pale shoulders to check if her door was closed. Brittany was two steps ahead, and she could see it locked from her place underneath her.

Brittany straddled Santana's waist and didn't break eye contact as she slipped her Cheerio's top over her head. Santana ran her hands smoothly over the curves of Brittany's waist and pulled her roughly forward for another heated kiss. Their teeth and tongues clashed together. Santana could feel Brittany's ragged breaths against her face along with the delicate thrumming of their own hearts beating against each other through their chests. Brittany sat up again and this time slowly unzipped the side of Santana's top.

The light brushing of Brittany's fingers against her skin, as she moved the zipper higher, sent delicious shivers to her spine. Santana arched off the bed and let Brittany pull the top over her head. She tossed it aside before raking her eyes over Santana's torso underneath her. Santana started to quiver nervously under Brittany's scrutiny. Brittany reached back and undid the clasp of Santana's lacy purple bra and slipped it delicately down her shoulders slowly with two hands. Santana's nervousness grew tenfold and she struggled to control the shaking. Brittany quickly noticed the panic in her friend's eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly. Her hands traced light patterns into the muscles in Santana's arm.

Santana tried to force a smile but said awkwardly, "No one ever really looks at me like that. It kinda makes me nervous," although it was hard for Santana's to ignore the warm feeling Brittany's presence brought over her. She marveled at how she could feel so content and so distraught at the same time.

A smile spread across Brittany's lips. "Never thought you'd be the nervous type." Santana huffed and turned her head to the side. Brittany quickly tried to backtrack, "Hey. It's adorable. I'm staring because I've never seen you look so beautiful before."

Santana laughed nervously again, "Why because I'm naked?" The idea hurt made her feel sick and old feelings of betrayal crept into her skin.

Brittany slid her hands down Santana's arms to clasp their hands together tightly before forcing eye-contact onto her, "No. Or at least not in the way you're thinking."

Underneath her, Brittany saw the girl she met in the park; the one who tried to act like a badass, but broke at the first sign of distress. Brittany saw the vulnerable girl she loved.

Before Santana had a chance to answer, she leaned down and captured her lips in a hard kiss. She was trying to convey every emotion she felt into this kiss. She tried to extinguish the nerves Santana still let escape through light shivers. In her kiss was a promise. She hoped Santana could feel it.

When she pulled back, she softly gazed into Santana's eyes that were still clasped shut. She reattached her hands to Brittany's hips and massaged light circles into the skin. She whispered quietly, "Okay." With a seductive glint in her now-open eyes she flipped Brittany onto her back.

"Let's do this."

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><p>Brittany slid her naked body in behind Santana's still trembling figure. She remarked that this was a different shiver that she knew she'd get to see more and more of. Santana was still dazed and trying to come down from her euphoric high. Brittany wrapped an arm tightly around her abdomen and pulled them even closer. It never felt quite close enough. She planted soft kisses to Santana's shoulders and brushed her lips against Santana's ear.<p>

"I love you," she whispered softly before nuzzling back into Santana's neck. Her breathing became shallow, as she let sleep overtake her.

Santana's eyes shot open in a flurry of panic as the words settled into her conscious. A new set of trembling ran through her sweat-soaked skin. The cold room kissed the wetness on every inch of her face. She reached a hand up to wipe the sweat away but was shocked to realize the droplets weren't escaping from her forehead but had been dripping quietly from her eyes.

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><p><em>The Next Day<em>

"I don't understand how our team expects to win Regional's with that hack Mr. Schuester running the group. He lets you all walk all over him. If there is anything I learned from winning 3 consecutive show choir competitions…" Rachel let Jesse drone on about how the New Directions had no chance at Regional's. Ever since he had left Vocal Adrenaline to join them, he spent 95% of the day criticizing the club and their focus. She never took it personally seeing as she was the only member of the group who seemed to care about winning anyway. It was nice to have a teammate who had the same goals as she did.

In reality how could she complain considering he had left his winning team for her. For _her. _Even Finn wouldn't have been that considerate. She knew she harbored some unresolved feelings for her co-captain but she was with Jesse. And he liked her, no conditions. He didn't need to 'find his inner-rock star' like Finn, but that also might have been because the gorgeous guy standing next to her in line at the Pretzel-Shop at the mall was already a rock-star. Rachel knew she was lucky to have him.

When Jesse's rant came to a close he stared at Rachel expecting an agreement or at least a nod in approval but her attention had just been turned elsewhere as she gazed into the thrift-store a few hundred feet down the mall. She would recognize those golden locks anywhere. Before she could stop herself she walked out of line and towards the girl.

Jesse called out loudly behind her, "Rachel? Where are you going?" She turned to give him a forced smile.

"I just saw a…a friend and I wanted to say hello. Just get me a lemonade okay?" she said sweetly and blew a kiss at her boyfriend. Her caught it and slapped it against his face. She laughed at his theatrics.

When she turned around she caught Quinn holding two scarves and laying them against her skin. One was a deep green with light blue flowers scattered lightly across it and the other a deep red with orange stripes running through it. As she got closer, Quinn hadn't noticed her presence so she snuck quietly up behind her and said loudly, "I like the green one."

Quinn threw both the scarves into the air and turned to Rachel with a look of complete shock. She held a hand over her chest and breathed deeply trying to regulate her spiking heartbeat. "Oh. My. God. What is wrong with you?" she yelled attracting the attention of other shoppers. Rachel looked around worriedly. She was sure Quinn would hit her here, they weren't at school anyway.

When a smile replaced the angry glare Quinn had before, Rachel gained a little more confidence. "Hello Quinn." She said playfully.

Quinn shook her head lightly, "What part of scaring a pregnant chick sounded like a good idea to you?" She squinted her eyes and tilted her head waiting for a response. A lightness descended on her heart that she only felt when Rachel was around her. She had no agenda for being rude to Rachel today and decided she might have a little fun instead.

"Well…I didn't really think about it to be honest." Rachel leaned down to retrieve the two scarves from the ground. "I never really think about you _actually_ being pregnant."

Quinn shot a glance down at her protruding baby-bump. "Yeah cause that's normally how I look." She laughed lightly before putting on a mock-serious face. "Wait, are you calling me fat?" A smirk bit at her lips and she struggled to hold it back.

"No-no-no of course not!" Rachel said quickly her eyes going wide. "I just mean it doesn't make a difference to me." Quinn let a smile grace her face. Rachel couldn't help but gaze at the beauty of the girl in front of her. The moments where a scowl or a pout wasn't prominent on Quinn's face were Rachel's favorite. She loved being able to see the airiness of her appearance and the playful glint in her deep-hazel eyes.

"Well you're the only one." Quinn said softly. She grabbed the two scarves from Rachel's hands and resumed holding them against her skin to decide which one she should buy. "Which one of these do you like more?" she asked Rachel without looking at her.

Rachel counted herself lucky because she had yet to remove her stare from Quinn's stunning features. She was having a hard time looking away. It wasn't everyday Rachel Berry got to be in such close confines with Quinn Fabray and she was going to milk it for all it's worth. She wanted these memories to last a lifetime, or at least now she would have something to play in her mind when Quinn decided to go off on her again. Without removing her eyes she remembered the two scarves.

"Personally, I like the red one. But for you, I'd say the green." Quinn had finally looked up at Rachel and she was forced to break eye contact and looked nervously down at the two long stretches of fabric.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow as she watched a light red settle on Rachel's cheeks. She realized she had been staring at her for the past few minutes and wanted to catch her. The blush confirmed her suspicions.

"Really? Because I was liking the red," she said playfully. Rachel looked up and smiled heartily at Quinn.

"Of course you would pick the opposite of what I said." She shook her head lightly. "Okay explain why you want the red one."

Quinn tapped a finger to her chin lightly and stared off up into space. "Let's see. I like the vibrant colors. One of our school colors is red so I'd have a reason to wear it. The orange is a little eccentric." She returned her eyes to Rachel who didn't hide how obviously she had been watching every word fall from Quinn's lips. "Why do you think the green?"

"Because everyone else would pick the red." Rachel said simply.

Quinn smirked at Rachel. "And?"

"You're not like everyone else. Or at least you shouldn't be." Rachel continued on confidently.

"I-I don't…" Quinn started but her throat felt instantly thicker and she couldn't find any words.

"But if you _really_ want the red one," she reached over and snatched it out of Quinn's hands, "I'll buy it."

Quinn gulped trying to find her voice, "A-And how does that help me?"

"Well," Rachel walked slowly to the counter and put the red scarf down, "you buy the green one. And if you don't like it, I'll trade you for this one." Rachel handed over a crisp twenty dollar bill from her wallet and slid it over to the attendant. She got her change and picked up the brown paper bag that held her new purchase.

"You're very annoying, even outside of school. You know that?" Quinn teased as she placed the green material onto the counter.

The two exited the store and walked side by side towards a fountain in the middle of the large building. "So what are you doing in the mall today Rachel?" Quinn asked lightly.

"Jesse and I were at the Music Shoppe looking over new selections to suggest for our Regional's set list," Rachel said matter-of-factly, "We figure someone needed to take some initiative if we were even going to stand a chance. Knowing Mr. Schue, we won't know what we are singing until the curtain is rising."

Quinn laughed, bitterly realizing she was interrupting what was more-or-less a date between the club's vocal powerhouses. "Where is Mr. St. James?" Quinn questioned her.

"I don't know. Probably still in line arguing with the server about what each type of pretzel will do to affect his vocal chords." She nudged Quinn's shoulder and the touch spread warmth through her arm.

Quinn awkwardly chuckled, trying to ignore the tingle in her stomach that accompanied Rachel's shoulder hitting her own. "Isn't he a little much for you?" Quinn asked playfully. She immediately rethought her question, "I just mean it must be hard with two overzealous personalities clashing." Rachel stared blankly at Quinn. "What? What did I say?"

"It's nice to talk to somebody who doesn't stumble through their words for once," Rachel said with a smile.

"You're not the only one with an extensive vocabulary," Quinn joked.

"Yeah, yeah I talk a lot. I know. _Everyone_ tells me. But to answer your question, no it's actually nice to have someone who cares as much as I do. Glee Club is important to me. Almost as important as winning, which is another quality Jesse and I share. Having someone who is as talented as I am," Quinn rolled her eyes, earning a playful smack from Rachel, "makes it easier to talk about my goals without being made fun of." Rachel finished on an extremely resentful note that Quinn picked up on easily.

"Everyone is jealous of you Rachel." Rachel looked at her incredulously. "No really. That's why they are all so awful to you. Everyone knows you are going to get out of here and they want to break you." She paused and let out a painful breath, "So you're stuck her with the rest of us."

"Are you including yourself in that Quinn?" Rachel asked sadly.

A smile smirk spread across her face and she answered, "Of course not. Can't let you get that big of a head now can we?" She gave Rachel a wink that flipped her stomach over.

Rachel playfully hit Quinn's shoulder again as Jesse finally walked up to the girls. "Oh hello Quinn." He handed a cup to Rachel that was filled with a carbonated yellow liquid. Rachel scowled at it innocently and Quinn watched her hold the cup away from her.

"What is this?" Rachel's voice was filled with disgust. Jesse looked from the drink to Quinn and then back to Rachel.

"It's RedBull," Jesse said awkwardly. He took a chug of his own drink and popped another piece of pretzel into his mouth.

"But I asked you for lemonade?" Rachel asked calmly and Quinn raised any eyebrow at the exchange.

"Yeah, well I figured if we were going to be up practicing you were going to need the energy." When Rachel's expression didn't change he continued. "I was just trying to help. We drank ten of these a day when I was with Vocal Adrenaline. Eventually they started to replace sleep all together." Quinn shook her head and watched Rachel still eyeing the liquid curiously.

"Isn't that a little unhealthy?" Quinn remarked giving Jesse a curious glare. Rachel turned her head at Quinn's voice and saw a little trace of head-cheerleader Quinn slip into her expression.

"Of course it is. But you do what you have to do to be the best." He returned his eyes to Rachel. "Right, Rach?" Rachel nodded slightly before taking a light sip of the drink. Her face scrunched up at the bitter taste and Quinn couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked.

"Well I'm going to leave you two alone", Quinn said forcefully. She started to walk away and turned lightly to wave a soft goodbye to Rachel who seemed sad to watch her go. When she faced ahead again, she let a little smirk graze her lips.

"What were you two talking about?" Jesse asked still watching Quinn's retreating figure. He knew of their checkered past and worried for his girlfriend who was often a victim in Quinn's eyes.

"Just talking. Girl-stuff. About the new scarves we bought." Rachel lied, not wanting to reveal the discussion she had with Quinn. It felt like a private moment. Jesse wouldn't like if she told everyone about _their_ 'moments' would he?

"Well I'm glad you two are getting along." He said with a smile and leaned in to place a lingering kiss to Rachel's lips. She heard a light scuffle of chairs around her but ignored it realizing a couple might have gotten up so they didn't have to witness a couple of kids making out in the middle of the food court. The contact left a light tingle on her lips as she pulled away but she noticed it didn't spread through her body like it usually did.

"Mhm," she said and linked her arm through his. He pulled her in for a hug and he wrapped his arms tightly around her tiny waist.

"I'm so happy we're together," he whispered quietly. Before Rachel got a chance to answer, she felt her phone vibrate in her purse that she still held tight against her side. She pulled away from the embrace to reach in and find her phone.

When she finally grabbed it she saw the front screen lit up. '1 New Message-Quinn F'

**(3:42 PM) Quinn F: **Your red bull might taste a little bit better now.

Rachel looked down to notice her drink that sat on the edge of the fountain's ledge and she picked it up to take a drink out of the straw. Had the straw been there before? She didn't remember it.

The bittersweet taste of Lemonade struck her tongue and a new wave of butterflies beat nervously against the cool liquid trailing through her body.

"What was it Rach?" Jesses asked as he grabbed her hand and let them towards the front doors of the mall.

She smiled to herself and took another drink. "Nothing…" she trailed off and caught the sight of blonde hair fleeing around a corner.

She saw enough to notice a wide grin thrown across Quinn's face.

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><p>Santana laid next to Quinn in the plush grass at Lima Park with their heads only a few inches apart as they both stared up into the bright April sky. Neither spoke, but basked in their quiet surroundings. It was still a little chilly outside so the two were the only ones there, but the sun provided just enough warmth to make it comfortable.<p>

Santana thrummed her fingers lightly against her stomach as thoughts of Brittany clouded her mind. Coming to the park was not the smartest idea when she wanted to get a little rest from the previous night playing through her head. She loved what happened between them. She loved Brittany. But what did that mean? They were two girls in Lima, Ohio. The context of those words alone surrounded Santana with enough doubts to know that they had no chance together. She thought about her friend lying next to her who was forcibly thrown out of her house for being pregnant. Tolerance was clearly not the strong suit of their hometown.

Quinn's mind drifted to the mall and the green scarf she wore tightly around her neck. She ran her fingers through the edges and thought of Rachel. Rachel infuriated her. She was so loud and annoying. But somehow, she also found it kind of endearing. She thought back to when they were little and that loudness played in her favor. Their parents would always relent and they got everything they wanted. Seeing Rachel like that as a teenager only brought back solid memories of the days when they were inseparable. Memories and feelings. Especially feelings. Quinn thought of their playful banter in the store and a smile settled on her otherwise tranquil expression.

Santana turned her head slightly to take in Quinn's appearance. Quinn noticed the grass ruffling and turned her head lightly to look at her friend. They looked at each other thoughtfully before Quinn broke the silence.

"You look tired S. Long night?" she asked worriedly.

Santana fought a flush from creeping up her neck. "Yeah, I was up late doing some homework." Her eyes flitted to the green cloth circling Quinn's neck. She had realized she hadn't stopped thumbing the material through their whole afternoon.

"New scarf?" Santana asked with curious eyes.

"Yeah," Quinn turned away to look back up into the sky, "It's my new favorite."

"I like it." Santana said before turning her gaze back up into the spotted clouds.

The two fell silent and observe the bright blue scene above them.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah I kinda really liked this chapter so I hope you did too :) **

**I have a renewed energy for writing after the new episode last night! So I think I will write another chapter tonight. **

**Thanks for reading :D**


	14. i've always got your back

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Does anyone need me to put the chapters into context? Cause I don't really feel like I have to. Idk let me know. Hey! Check it out! Another chapter like I said! Sometimes there is follow-through.  
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**I loved loved loved writing that last chapter and I'm really happy you all enjoyed it as well. For anyone who read it before I went back and edited a little I'm sorry you had to suffer through the rough version. I tried to go back to fix some of the stuff that annoyed me.  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>A loud slam accompanied Kurt falling to the ground. He looked up to see Dave Karofsky staring down at him with disgust.<p>

"Watch where you're going butt-boy," he threatened they boy huddled against the lockers. Karofsky sent a swift kick to Kurt's backpack sending it down the hallway where other kids trampled on it.

Brittany and Santana rounded the corner and watched the scene unfolding in front of them. Santana looked over and saw the sad look on Brittany's face before reaching down and picking up the backpack they both knew could only belong to Kurt. She left Brittany's side and walked swiftly up to the two boys who still stood (in Kurt's case sat) only a foot away from each other. Santana could feel the tension ripple out from the two as she tapped lightly on Karofsky's shoulder.

Dave turned around to see who had interrupted his bullying session and was surprised to see the Santana's heated glare centered on him. Even as a much larger person, she could still scared him with just one look.

"Hello David. You wanna do me a favor and back up off my boy Kurt?" She glared intently at him, almost daring him to try something.

"Your 'boy'?" Karofsky asked mockingly. "Since when has Hummel been your—"

Another heated gaze stopped him in his tracks. "Alright this is how its gonna be _Dave_, you're going to keep your mouth shut when it comes to Kurt. And leave him alone. You understand me?"

Karofsky looked around the hallway and noticed a few other kids were watching the scene. "You know you don't scare me right," he paused and hesitantly added, "J-lo?"

A fire spread behind Santana's eyes and she delivered a swift kick to his groin. He doubled over in pain and writhed around on the floor before staring up at her with watery-eyes.

"Plenty more where that came from." She scowled down at him. "Now get out of here!" she yelled and pointed down the hallway.

Karofsky stood up quickly and started barreling down the hallway through the students in his path. He muttered a loud "bitch" that didn't go unheard by Santana. She looked down and saw Kurt staring up at her in confusion.

"Why did you do that?" he asked her when she reached down and helped pull him to his feet. "He kind of had a point about me being 'your boy.'"

Santana laughed and saw Brittany still standing far down the hallway but her frown had been replaced with a proud smile. "Look Kurt, you and I may not have the best friendship, or be friends at all, but you're her friend," she pointed down the hallway to Brittany who had finally started making her way towards them, "and that means I've got your back." She smiled genuinely at Kurt who hesitantly returned the gesture.

"Hi Kurt!" Brittany said as she bounded up them. She laced an arm through one of Santana's and the other through Kurt's and pulled them forward through the hallway.

"Hey Britt!" He smiled affectionately at her. He had come to love Brittany after their impromptu friendship. "How is life in the Cheerio's?"

Santana scoffed and Brittany admonished her with a look, "It's amazing. Coach Sylvester made us run laps until we puked." Kurt and Santana both gave her a confused look.

"What part of that was amazing Britt?" Santana chuckled.

"Well the part where I didn't puke but got to watch you hurl." She turned to look at Kurt who failed to hold back laughter at the scowl on Santana's face. "It was hilarious." Brittany and Kurt laughed while Santana pulled her arm free to jab her in the side.

"Oh you thought it was funny did you?" She smirked at Brittany who recognized the playful smile.

"Don't do it San," Brittany said softly. She stared straight ahead to plot her path through the hallway.

"Why not, Britt? I mean you think it's funny when I puke." She moved closer and raised her hands to either sides of Brittany's body. "I think it's my turn to laugh." She attacked the girl's sides and tickled her until Brittany screamed loud enough to startle a few of their fellow students who surrounded the trio at their lockers.

"San stop!" Brittany yelled and struggled to pull away from Santana who relentlessly sent fingers to her sides finding new angles when she blocked her. Brittany grasped onto Kurt's arm tightly and tugged him roughly forward. "Kurt, run! Let's go!" she yelled as she dragged him through the crowd of people. She didn't anticipate him behind her so Kurt was getting hit by several shoulders and backpacks swinging through the hallway. Santana was hot on their heels and yelled her name through the hallway.

Kurt laughed at the two girls who found the most random times to play. He wouldn't imagine in a million years drawing this much attention to himself, but with them he ignored his inhibitions and played along. "Brittany faster! She's gaining on us." He said as the rounded a corner. They were met with a scowling Sue Sylvester blocking their path. Santana came around the corner and slammed roughly into the back of Kurt sending him sprawling to the ground at Sue's feet.

"Very graceful, lady-face. I figured someone of your…disposition would have a little more elegance." She turned her glare at Brittany and Santana, who stood staring nervously into the ground. "Lopez, Pierce, when did it become okay to fraternize with this freak." Santana saw Brittany's hand tense at that insult and wanted to confront Sue. Unfortunately, Coach Sylvester was the one person who scared her and she kept her mouth shut. When they didn't answer her, Sue stepped around them and walked down the hallway saying loudly, "On the field. Laps."

Santana turned around and nervously said to her coach, "But we have Spanish?"

Sue swiftly turned on her heels and marched back up to them. Brittany finally raised her eyes to their coach and trembled at the scowl Sue directed at both of them. "I don't remember asking," she answered hotly and returned to walking down the hallway, "Let's go."

Kurt had climbed to his feet and watched them slowly following the woman down the hallway. Before they got too far, Brittany's head perked up and she ran back to him. Santana stopped and stared back to watch hr give Kurt a tight hug. Brittany released him and waved a quick bye before rejoining Santana to march out to the field.

Kurt watched them go and was happy he never had to deal with that awful woman. Right as the two girls got past the last set of doors leading to classrooms, he watched Brittany link her pinky with Santana's and smiled at the adorable view.

'_Who knew Santana could be a sweetheart?' _he wondered, before turning his back and walking off to his French class.

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><p>The final notes of <em>Beth<em> drifted through the air and all members of the glee club cheered and clapped at the heart-wrenching song. Puck made his way across the room and stopped in front of Quinn who wiped away tears, minding her Gaga outfit.

"I want to name her Beth. I know you don't want to keep her, but this way we'll always be a part of her," he said and Quinn stood to hug him. She loved Puck even after everything that happened. He would always have a hold on her heart. They had created something life-changing together.

The bell rang and everyone shuffled out of the room. Quinn hung back to collect her books and she didn't notice Rachel discussing something at length with their instructor. When he had a frazzled look on his face, Mr. Schuester finally slowly scooted away from the Rachel, who was ranting and raving, before turning his back completely and exiting into his office. Rachel let out a frustrated sigh and looked around the room, seeing Quinn still in the back of the choir room.

"Hello Quinn!" she said cheerily. Rachel walked up to her while still struggled to scrape tears off of her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Berry." It stung to hear Quinn revert to her old nature. She should have expected it; Quinn only ever really called her Rachel when they were outside of school, but it still hurt. "It was just Puck's song." Quinn's voice softened. "It hurts to realize that I'll never get to be a part of her life."

"You could be," Rachel insisted. Quinn rolled her eyes, but Rachel continued, "I'm serious Quinn. You could always keep her."

Quinn's face twisted with anger, "Really? And how would that work? Maybe I could drop out of school. I'm sure I could find a job waitressing or something. That would be the _perfect_ life for my daughter, don't you think?" She pushed past Rachel and headed towards the door.

Rachel was unsure of what to say to remedy the situation, so she asked the question that had been plaguing her daily, "Do you want to keep her? Honestly do you want her?"

Quinn stopped and shut her eyes. _'Who does she think she is?' _Quinn though angrily. She turned around to yell again at Rachel but stopped when she saw the truly concerned expression on her face. The quiet, empty room never felt so large. They both stood at opposite ends and exchanged a silent moment. Quinn felt the tears pooling in her eyes again and she slowly approached Rachel.

"I want her more than anything. More than prom queen, more than Cheerio's, more than _Regional's_," she chuckled lightly at the last one before turning serious again, "I love her. I don't know her yet, but I want to. She's mine. I want her so much Rachel." Quinn dropped her head and a few tears fell onto the tile beneath their feet.

Rachel walked up slowly and noticed Quinn didn't step away from how close they were. It gave her enough courage to wrap her arms slowly around Quinn's waist and hugged her tight.

The hug shocked Quinn, but she accepted the embrace and closed her arms around Rachel's shoulders and pulled the girl in close. She hoped the girl couldn't feel her heart pounding through her chest as she lowered her head to lean against Rachel's shoulder. She breathed in the once-familiar scent of Rachel and realized she still smelt warm and sweet; her vanilla perfume hadn't changed since they were children. _'Why would it?'_ Quinn had been the one to introduce it to her when her fathers were of no help in the girl-department. It made sense that Rachel wouldn't have deviated away from what she knew. A little part of Quinn hoped it had something to do with the fact that it was _her_ who picked the scent. After all, she still wore the raspberry perfume Rachel had picked out. When one bottle ran out, she quickly replenished the perfume, hoping to never smell like anything else.

Rachel felt all too comfortable in the arms of her greatest enemy. She loved the irony of their situation. Once friends turned enemies, it was a story of fairytale proportions. She reveled in the drama between them. She knew she'd always have a connection with Quinn, whether they were rivals or allies.

Eventually Quinn pulled away and took a few steps backwards. "It doesn't matter though." She said softly.

"Why?" Rachel asked just as quietly.

"I won't do that to her. She deserves so much better than I can give her. So I have to give her to someone that will make sure she is happy." Quinn said and turned before letting Rachel see any more tears. "I'll give her that." Quinn left the room hastily and Rachel's head hung as she stared, defeated, at the ground.

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><p><strong>(5:34 PM): <strong>Hey Britt-Britt! Do you want to come over and watch some movies with me?

Santana sent Brittany a message and tucked her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. She opened her bedroom door and hopped down the stairs energetically. She didn't know why she was in such a good mood.

Okay, yes she did. Earlier, during Cheerio's practice, she had bested a few of the older Cheerio's who already hated her. After Quinn's departure from the team she had moved up to Head cheerleader and they were all spiteful and jealous of her. When the more-seasoned girls attempted the routine, they stumbled and improperly executed a few of the moves her and Brittany moved through easily. Coach Sylvester rewarded them by letting her and Brittany watch the rest of the team run laps. _'That woman sure does have a thing for forcing us to run laps.' _And she had to admit that watching the girls shoot them hateful glances was a nice ego boost. She even threw in a few blown kisses and light waves to rub it in further.

Santana had already reached the kitchen when a vibration trembled through her thigh. She reached in and pulled out her phone to see a new message from Brittany.

**(5:38 PM) Britt: **Sure:) Let me feed Lord Tubbington and then I'll be right over!

Santana chuckled and wrote back.

**(5:38 PM): **I think that cat could go a few months without food and be okay ;)

**(5:39 PM) Britt: **Then I wouldn't have to spend so much money on cat food! That's a good idea!

Santana shook her head knowing she would have to tell Brittany later to make sure to feed the disgustingly obese animal.

**(5:40 PM): **Just get over here. I miss you.

**(5:40 PM) Britt: **I'll be right there :)

A few streets over Brittany stopped filling her cat's dish and grabbed her slippers from the side of her bed. She had long since changed out of her Cheerio's uniform and was dressed in WMHS sweatpants and an old camp t-shirt. She pulled her moccasins on and walked out of the house towards her bicycle. She had her license but her parent's much preferred when she didn't drive. She sometimes forgot the difference between red-lights and stop signs and ended up barely making it alive over to Santana's house.

Brittany also knew it would make Santana happy to know she wasn't behind the wheel. Sometimes her friend would drop whatever she was doing to come over and pick her up when she wanted to come over. She always insisted that she was trying to protect Brittany and she couldn't help but enjoy the chivalry. Brittany wondered why Santana had invited her over. They had been fooling around a lot since that one night in April and usually Santana just came over to her house. She wondered if there was something special or different about this night since Santana asked her to come over to _her_ house. The Lopez's were usually home around that time and she knew Santana wouldn't try anything with her parents in the house. There was one time when Maria had walked into Santana's room without knocking and had almost caught them, but Santana quickly distanced herself from Brittany and smoothed out her clothing before her mother noticed anything was wrong.

Santana also never told her she missed her. She had to admit it sent a delicious tingle to the pit of her stomach but she didn't think anything of it. Before long she reached the Lopez residence and dropped her bike onto the sidewalk. Brittany climbed up the long set of stairs that led up to the front door. She didn't knock but rather walked right in and followed the scent of cookies to the kitchen. Brittany knew it wouldn't be anyone else in the house cooking because Santana seemed to be the only one who utilized the kitchen. Her mother insisted on the maid cooking for them and never set foot in there. It was amazing to Brittany that they had a maid at all and sometimes she felt awkward by the older Hispanic lady's universal presence in the household. They were lucky to be left alone in any other room than Santana's during daylight hours.

When Brittany came through the doorway, she spotted Santana hunched over the counter reading the label on the back of the cookie packaging. She smiled at her scrunched up face and slowly tiptoed over behind her. Brittany wrapped her arms lightly around Santana's waist and rested her chin on the girl's shoulder peering over at the plastic that held her attention so well. At first Santana tensed into the pressure behind her, but when she realized it was Brittany she relaxed and moved slightly backward pushing their bodies closer together.

"Mmm….cookies smell good." Brittany whispered quietly. She planted a light kiss to Santana's neck and Santana moaned quietly in response. Brittany pulled away and sat back against the counter opposite of her. With a reddened face, Santana turned around and stared longingly at the Brittany.

"Well I thought we'd have something to eat while we watched a movie." She pulled herself up on top of the counter and dipped her finger lightly into the cookie dough bringing it slowly to her mouth. She watched Brittany following her movement and moved her finger back and forth quickly to see if she would follow her. When she did, Santana laughed out loud.

Brittany's face lit up and she asked, "What?" Santana shook her head.

"See something you like?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Always." Brittany replied firmly. The power of her gaze twisted Santana's insides in the best way.

The kitchen timer buzzed and broke the heavy silence between them and Santana dropped off the counter to move over to the stove. She leaned over and pulled out the cookies that were perfectly browned around the edges and still slightly mushy on the inside. She smiled dropping a few onto a plate before looking back at Brittany who was still watching her every move.

"Movie time?" she asked with a smirk and the two trailed upstairs to Santana's bedroom.

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><p>Santana absentmindedly ran her fingers through the golden strands of hair lying across her stomach. They had started their third movie and Brittany had perched her head across her stomach. Brittany loved feeling the tiny heartbeat in Santana's stomach and how it felt pounding against her temple. Every once in a while she would trail a finger along the exposed skin underneath Santana's tank-top to feel the thumping speed up, if only for a moment. Santana's abs would constrict and then relax and she loved having that kind of effect on her friend.<p>

After the sixth or seventh time she did this, Santana asked, "Britt, are you even watching this movie?"

"No." Brittany answered honestly. Santana chuckled lightly.

"Did you watch any of the movies?" she asked again through her laughter.

"I saw about two minutes of the first one," she replied and turned to give Santana a smirk, "I was waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Santana eyed her curiously. Brittany sat up and sat with her legs crossed next to Santana's waist. She ran her fingers across her arm lightly. When Santana realized what she was hinting at, she mouthed an 'oh' and Brittany chuckled at her. "That wasn't really in my plans for tonight, B."

Brittany stopped her hand and tilted her head to look at her friend. "It wasn't?"

"No." Santana laughed a little and grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.

"Why not?" Brittany asked curiously.

"Because I wanted a night without that. I just wanted to hang out with you for a change." She traced her thumb across Brittany's knuckles.

Brittany's face dropped a little, "Oh…are you mad at me?" she asked nervously.

"Britt, could I ever be mad at you?" she asked playfully hoping to put a smile on her friend's face. When it didn't work she pulled Brittany in close and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'm not mad. I promise."

Brittany's face brightened a little and she nuzzled into Santana's neck. She wrapped her arm around her waist and pulled her infinitely close. "Okay, let's finish this movie." Santana laughed at how excited she sounded and reached down to press play on her remote.

A few minutes passed and Santana resumed running her fingers through Brittany's hair. She yelled excitedly at the screen, "That's ridiculous! That would and could not happen in real life!" When Brittany didn't respond, Santana craned her neck and noticed she was fast asleep She chuckled softly and planted a light kiss on Brittany's head.

No one watched the movie. It fell as white noise while Brittany slept, and Santana watched her sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: Okay now I have serious motivation to write my next chapter because I have been wanting to write it forever!**

**So I hope it doesn't suck!**

**Also for some reason I was having a moment where all I wanted was cookies while I was writing this and that's how that ended up in there. Just random fact lol also I almost included Quinn when Brittany was talking about Santana puking during practice and then I remembered she was supposedly pregnant and wasn't on the cheerios so I'm glad I caught that. **

**Sorry for the long unnecessary after thought. Thanks for reading :D**

**Preview of the next chapter: The birth of Beth, mentions of shelby, faberry-centric chapter, and even cuter brittana to sum it up :)**


	15. let's take a step back

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: So here we go. Alright first of all I went back through all the chapters and edited every single one to make sure that they were all in the same tense. And after reading it all, I would just like to apologize for how annoyingly confusing it was and I am eternally grateful for how you all put up with it because you apparently like the story enough to ignore it. But I went back and fixed it so if you ever, for any reason, decide to read this again, you will be surprised to see it flows a lot easier than it did the first time, or at least so I thought. So again, thanks and I'm trying my best to make sure it's all good. Anyways, here's my regionals chapter and like I've been saying I wanted to write this really bad and I hope it came out good.  
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**Thanks for the reviews, and the new alerts/favorites :D  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>The members of the glee club rushed towards the exit of the convention center and Puck rushed ahead to hold the door open for Quinn and her mother. They two women shuffled carefully out towards the parking lot and Judy's awaiting mini-van. Santana and Brittany quickly opened the side door and helped ease Quinn into the back of the car. Rachel ran to the open door and scanned quickly over her trembling figure.<p>

"Quinn…I" she started but was cut off with a rushed wave from Quinn.

"Go back Rach, you don't have to be there," Quinn whispered, struggling to keep her voice low through the shooting pains in her abdomen.

Rachel was hesitant. Her competitive nature was pulling hard to make her stay and observe Vocal Adrenaline's performance but it faltered when she looked at the clenched teeth of her blonde, almost-friend. She wanted more than anything to leave, to climb in beside Quinn and hold her hand the whole way to the hospital, but she couldn't put her ambition behind anything. _'Besides'_ she thought, _'Quinn wouldn't want me there anyway. Look how obviously she told me to leave.'_

Quinn watched the worry slip through every inch of Rachel's face. "I'm serious Berry." She said louder and it attracted the attention of a few of their teammates. "Get in there." Quinn tried to force a small smile, but came up short. Santana slammed the van door shut and ushered Rachel away.

"Go." Santana ordered and pointed back towards the building. When Rachel stepped away, her and Brittany circled the car and climbed into the other side.

Rachel watched her fellow members get into their own cars and follow Judy Fabray out of the parking lot. She stood alone in the quiet night before sighing heavily once and re-entering the building, instantly regretting her decision.

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><p>"Can I come in?" Rachel called loudly through the closed door. After watching the magnificent—much to her dismay—performance Jesse and his team of drones put on, she walked backstage to find her mother. Jesse had introduced Rachel to Shelby, who commanded his team, a few weeks before, with the shocking information that she was in fact, her biological mother.<p>

"Of course Rachel," Shelby slowly approached the door and pulled it open to reveal a very depressed-looking Rachel, "How can I help you?"

"You were very good. Jesse oversold his performance but I don't doubt the judges will choose your group to win," Rachel said confidently.

Shelby crossed the green room and sat down on the leather couch. _'Why do they get couches?' _Rachel thought, thinking of the hard plastic chairs the McKinley kids had to sit on while they waited for their turn. But it was not like she would have used one of the offending pieces of furniture anyways. She even had it in her head that after this competition died down she would find the owner of the center and encourage him to get rid of the non-animal friendly seating.

"Thank you. I liked watching you perform, it reminded me of how obviously talented you are. It made me proud," Shelby admitted with a dazzling smile.

Rachel looked down and shook her head lightly. "You don't get to be proud of me," she said only loud enough for Shelby to hear her.

"I know. But I still am." Shelby looked awkwardly around the room unsure of what to say or why Rachel was there in the first place. She decided this might be the last time she had to tell her how she really felt and said the words she needed to get off her chest.

"I wanted you, Rachel. I really did. Giving you up to your fathers, no matter how nice they were or how much they paid me, was the hardest thing I've ever done. I always wanted to be a part of your life. And when I met you, I thought everything would feel right but I was wrong. You never needed me, and what I wanted was a daughter who did." Shelby drifted slowly up out of her chair and towards Rachel who was fighting to keep the tears off of her face.

Rachel considered her mother's words and realized the air of similarity they had to her discussion with Quinn only a few weeks prior. Shelby wanted someone to take care of, and Quinn wanted Beth to be with someone who would give her daughter everything. An idea struck her immediately and she opened her mouth slowly to speak.

"Do you still want that?" she asked quietly. Shelby's brow furrowed and she silently asked what Rachel was asking. "I mean do you still want a-a daughter. A baby?" she silently prayed the woman would understand what she meant.

Shelby looked thoughtful for a moment and then returned her gaze to Rachel, "Sometimes. It would be nice after all these years to settle down for a while. I could stay here and raise a baby girl." She nodded once with a large smile, "Yeah, that would be nice."

Rachel's face brightened a little, "You could have that." She said simply.

"I don't understand Rachel." Shelby laughed a little.

"Quinn." Rachel said simply.

"Quinn?" Shelby asked, unaware of whom she was talking about.

"She's my—she's a girl on my team who actually just went into labor." Rachel chuckled at how ridiculous it sounded, "She's actually at the hospital right now."

Rachel thought about how perfect it was. Her mother would have Quinn's baby and stay in Lima. Then if Quinn ever wanted to see her daughter, she could.

"Rachel, that's a little…" Shelby started.

"Look I know it's a big decision. But do it for me. We both know it's something you want. It'll make us both really happy." Rachel continued, and pleaded as best she could with her mother.

Shelby smiled brightly and nodded her head once, "I'll consider it."

Rachel looked seriously at the woman, "Consider? You don't have much—" a stern look from Shelby cut her off, "you're right I'm sorry." She turned to leave and opened the door before turning around and giving the woman a kind smile, "Thank you Shelby."

"How does it make you happy?" The questioned startled Rachel and she looked confused.

"What do you mean?" She inquired.

"You said it would make _both_ of us happy. How does it make you happy?" Shelby smiled brightly trying to figure her out.

Rachel immediately thought of Quinn. "It just does." She stated simply before leaving the room abruptly.

* * *

><p>"Get out of here Puck!" Santana yelled through the small hallway outside of Quinn's hospital room. Only a few people remained in the hallway: Mercedes, Brittany, Puck and her. It had been a few hours since Quinn had given birth and she had only let Santana in the room.<p>

Puck had been trying relentlessly to go into the room and talk to Quinn but all of his attempts had been denied, "What the hell Santana? I'm the one who knocked her up. She had _my_ kid! I just want to see if she's okay."

"It doesn't matter. First of all, that doesn't give you any claim over her. Second, she told me to not let anyone in," Santana silently checked herself, knowing that wasn't entirely true, "and that especially includes _you_." She stood firmly in front of the door unmoving. Brittany watched from a bench on the other side of the hall. The veins in Santana's neck were sticking out visibly while she yelled at Puck, and Brittany silently wished she would calm down because they were starting to scare her. She always worried when something was stressing her out so much she would pass out or something. That's what usually happened when Coach worked them so hard in practice that those lines protruded from her neck.

Brittany called up to her friend, "San, please calm down a little. You're gonna wake up all the babies." She pointed in the way of the nursery. Santana looked down at her and gave her a light smile but didn't move from her spot, determined to keep Puck away.

"Whatever, I'll just come back tomorrow when you're gone." He turned to leave and nudged Mercedes' shoulder a little since he was her ride home. "Let's go. Bitch won't let me in." Mercedes woke up from her sleep and stood up still a little drowsy. Brittany wanted to laugh at how she had the ability to sleep during the screaming match that had been taking place only two feet away from her.

"Don't talk about Q like that or I will end you!" Santana screamed once more at Puck, who turned around and gave her a devilish smirk.

"I wasn't." He winked and left the two girls alone in the quiet hallway.

Santana crossed over and took a seat next to Brittany who wrapped her arms around her and let her lean back into her chest.

"She so owes me for this," Santana said tiredly. Brittany chuckled softly and breathed in the cinnamon scent that was wholly Santana. Judy had left to get some clothes for her daughter and surprisingly remembered to bring sweats and t-shirts for them. They were extremely grateful to not be in the dresses they had performed in a few hours earlier. It seemed like forever ago to them. They had spent two restless hours outside the delivery room waiting to hear if Quinn and the baby were okay. Finally, when Puck came out looking unnaturally pale with the good news, they breathed easier and retreated to the lobby to tell everyone she was okay. The depressing tension of the room from learning they had lost Regional's via a lackluster telephone call from their teacher, easily evaporated with the knowledge of the birth of their teammates' healthy child.

"You're a good friend," Brittany said and kissed the side of her head. Santana looked around uneasily to make sure no one had witnessed it. Brittany noticed her fidgeting behavior and sighed.

"No one saw it, S," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered and hung her head.

Brittany squeezed her a little tighter, "It's okay." She quickly tried to change the subject, "Did you get to see her?" she excitedly asked.

A small smile grew on her face, "Yeah, she was adorable." She snorted a little, "It's amazing to think Puckerman could have made something that beautiful."

"I think it had mostly to do with, Q," Brittany stated simply. "Of course her baby would be beautiful." Santana noticed a little hint of jealousy in her voice.

"Yours will be too." Santana leaned back a little farther to look up into her face. "If your kids get those eyes," she looked back and forth between the twinkling eyes that always captured her attention, "they will be _almost_ as beautiful as you."

Brittany's face got a little warm and she beamed, "Thank you." Santana turned back around and shrugged her shoulders a little.

"You don't have to thank me. It's the truth," she said and shut her eyes a little trying to imagine Brittany's kids. She saw little grinning faces with bright dazzling eyes staring back at her. Hair as blonde as the strands she was running softly through her fingers. They were copies of Brittany, it was impossible to find any trace of another gene pool. The idea satisfied her.

Brittany pictured her kids too. They were like Santana said and had her bright blue eyes. But she pictured two kids: a boy and a girl. Both had her eyes, but the girl had dark brown hair almost similar to the color she stared down at now. Prominently on the little face were plump lips that were not indicative of Pierce children. She couldn't imagine the features any other way and she didn't really mind the difference, and it made her surprisingly happy.

"Do you want kids?" Brittany questioned her curiously.

"Right now?" Santana joked and Brittany scoffed.

"I'm serious, S. Do you?" she asked again.

Santana thought about it for a long moment. "Eventually I think it would be nice. That's everyone's plan right? Meet a guy, settle down, get married and have kids." She expelled the words as if trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth.

Brittany's heart dropped a little and she said softly, "Yeah that's the plan."

Santana smiled again, "Can we have our kids at the same time?" she asked.

"Why?" Brittany scrunched her face together. Santana turned to laugh at the face she was making.

"So our kids can be best friends. Like us." She poked the girl's nose once. "Duh?"

Brittany tried to laugh a little but could only force a smile on her face. "Of course. That'd be awesome."

Santana turned back around again but was pushed forward a little as Brittany tried to stand up. She stretched a little and Santana eyed her curiously. "Where are you going?" she asked calmly.

"Well if we need to stay up and make sure Puck doesn't come back we are going to need some coffee. I'll run down and get it real quick."

"Okay thanks." Santana stood and hugged her tightly. She reveled in the cotton-candy smell that was Brittany. It only seemed natural that Brittany smelled so sweet. _'Oh god I am so lame,' _Santana thought. "I think I'll go check on her." She pulled away and nodded her head towards the dark room that was lit with only one bedside lamp.

"Okay." She walked away backwards and gave Santana a large smile. "You're going to make an amazing mom someday." She waved and turned around to walk around the corner towards the lobby.

Santana watched her go before walking slowly into Quinn's room. She knocked lightly but assumed she must have been asleep. When she neared the bed she saw the girl's eyes wide open and staring silently at the wall of her room. "Q?" she asked softly and slowly padded over to the bed.

Quinn looked up a little to acknowledge her, but remained in her position. Santana sat down lightly on the edge of the bed and ran her hand softly over her back. "Hey you okay?" She said quietly. Her friend seemed so fragile and she felt like a normal speaking voice could break her.

"Yeah…" Quinn said softly. Her voice sounded strained and tired. "Did everyone leave?"

"Uh-huh. I finally got Puck to go home. He wouldn't just leave. _Ass._" Santana scowled as she spoke.

Quinn laughed a tiny, choked laugh. "I heard him. _And you._" Santana smiled apologetically. "No, thanks S. I'm glad you're here." Quinn sat up a little and looked outside of the door. "Where's Britt? Did she leave too?"

Santana shook her head, "Nah. Just went to get some coffee. We're on lookout tonight." She made a light saluting gesture. "Making sure to keep you safe."

Quinn chuckled lightly, her voice getting a little more normal after taking a light drink from the cup on her table. "Safe from what?"

"Disgusting sperm donors. Crazy, alcoholic fathers. Whatever else that comes knocking on your door." She teasingly smiled.

"Wow. I didn't know I had so many things to be afraid of. Maybe you should just come home with me after this. I _apparently _need a personal body guard," Quinn said playfully. Santana was happy to see her old friend for a brief moment.

"Well that depends, Fabray. What are we talking in terms of payment? Just because I'm Latina doesn't mean I will work for free. I needs me some type of deal here if I'm gonna consider it." She put on a stern poker face and fought the smile off her face.

Quinn couldn't resist and broke out into light laughter, "Does that ghetto-speak really intimidate people? It's hard to take you seriously when I've seen where you live. I hate to break it to you but Lima Hills is hardly a tough break." She poked the girl lightly in the ribs.

"Ow! Hey you're lucky you're in a hospital bed and just gave birth to the spawn of a mohawked Neanderthal or I would so mess you up," she said moving away from the bed and pulling a chair up next to the side.

"Ouch. Did you really have to bring that up?" Quinn looked disgusted and tried to push the last few hours of memories out of her head.

Santana looked around casually, "Soooo, speaking of ouch—"

"It hurt S. A lot. That epidural thing that is supposed to help?" Santana nodded, "It doesn't." Santana's face clenched just thinking about the pain. "I am seriously considering getting my tubes tied at 16 because I _never _want to experience that again. That whole pushing a watermelon—"

"Great image to think about. Thanks for ruining sex Q." Santana cut her off, trying to joke and Quinn's face brightened the tiniest bit.

"I didn't think you had to worry about pregnancy scares." Quinn winked and she nodded towards the door where Brittany stood with two cups, steam billowing out of each. Santana turned and smiled at the girl who didn't interrupt but instead sat back down on the bench, waiting patiently.

"We'll see about that one." Santana stood up and pushed the chair back to its position and leaned down to place a light kiss on her forehead. When she pulled back she grimaced in disgust. "Ew, Q, wash your face when you get a chance."

Quinn hit her roughly in the arm, "Thanks! Get out." She laughed and pointed towards the door. Santana smiled and walked towards the door when Quinn's small voice stopped her.

"Hey…" she muttered. Santana turned back with raised eyebrows. "Did she come?" she asked softly.

Santana shook her head a little and moved to walk out of the door. "Sorry Q," was the last thing she said as she shut the door softly.

* * *

><p>Brittany perked up at the sight of Santana and she scooted over to make room for her, "Hey, how is she doing?"<p>

"She's good. Good enough to make me never want to have sex again at least." Santana stuck her tongue out grossly.

Brittany looked seriously at Santana, "I hope not."

Santana almost spit out her drink."Britt!" she said loudly.

Brittany had a coy smile as she asked simply, "What?" Santana rolled her eyes and nuzzled into her friend.

"You didn't see Berry did you?" Santana whispered, unsure if Quinn could still hear them. Brittany frowned and shook her head. As she spoke they both heard the light trailing of footsteps down the hallway.

Brittany was the first to turn her head and watched Rachel still clad in her competition-dress slowly approaching them. She pointed towards her and Santana stood up hurriedly.

"Bout time, hobbit," she spat out angrily. "Surprised you showed up at all."

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words; Santana still intimidated her even after all the months of supposed 'camaraderie' that the Glee Club shared.

"Well?" Santana pointed towards the door. "What are you waiting for?" Brittany smiled softly at Rachel and stood up next to Santana, who was struggling to keep her mouth shut from exploding on Rachel, who had made Quinn wait all night.

Rachel smiled slightly and moved into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Brittany moved over and stared quietly into the room before turning around and sliding down the hard door to her butt. She tried to make herself comfortable against the doorframe and motioned for Santana to join her.

Santana walked over awkwardly and sat down next to her friend. "What are we doing?" she asked with a confused smile. Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana's waist and pulled her in close. She laid her head down on top of Santana's head and breathed out contently.

"We're blocking the door. Like we said we would," she said excitedly. The idea of an all-night stake-out thrilled her, especially with Santana at her side.

"I didn't really mean that literally." Santana muttered with a chuckle.

"Oh…" Brittany's smile faded a little.

"But hey! Let's do it. It sounds fun." She smiled brightly and settled quietly into Brittany's arms. She nuzzled into her neck and placed a light kiss to the indent at the base of her throat. "I love you Britt."

"I love you too San." She kissed the top of Santana's head before continuing. "Alright keep any eye out. They could be coming from anywhere."

* * *

><p>Quinn was sleeping when Rachel walked around the edge of the bed and she moved the chair closer before sitting down quietly. She watched her sleep and was lost in the serene look on her face. This Quinn reminded her of the one she remembered from her childhood. She slept with no care in the world. Rachel reached out and lightly pushed a stray piece of hair back away from the girl's face. Quinn twitched from the small pressure and crinkled her nose before both eyes shot open and stared at her..<p>

"Rach?" She blinked trying to clear the drowsiness away. She pulled a hand up to roughly wipe at her eyes before returning them to her. Rachel watched her eyes tear up as instantly as she recognized her form fully.

"Quinn…" she cooed and moved closer to the bed taking her hand firmly in her own.

Quinn didn't fight the tears that streamed down her face and pulled Rachel towards her body. She pulled Rachel into the bed and hugged her closely. "I-I d-don't. I'm so sorry Rach," she tried through sobs.

Rachel rubbed comforting circles into her back and whispered, "It's okay. Shh, it's okay Quinn. It's alright. You're okay." She only pulled Rachel tighter against her chest. "What's wrong?"

Quinn shook her head against Rachels shoulder. "It's all my fault. I keep screwing everything up. My life. My daughter. _Us._" She struggled to control her breathing. "I'm so sorry Rachel."

Rachel didn't really understand what she was talking about but she continued to try to soothe her, "You don't have to be sorry. You didn't screw us up." Rachel pulled away and out of Quinn's embrace. They lay in bed facing each other and Quinn still tried to push the tears off of her face. Rachel brought a hand up and brushed messy blonde hair out of her face. "Your _father_ did that. Not you. You don't have to apologize for him."

Quinn shook her head, "I certainly didn't help." The worst of her sobbing had ceased but she still sniffled heavily through her words. "I am awful to you."

"A little," Rachel joked but saw it did nothing to help her state and resumed rubbing Quinn's back. "You aren't totally awful to me. I mean I did feel kind of important when you would call me all those times."

Quinn chuckled darkly, "Yeah and hung up because I am a spineless freak." Rachel shook her head disapprovingly.

"You're not a freak. To be honest I really miss them sometimes," she paused to smile a little, "even if you didn't say anything."

The first genuine smile passed over Quinn's otherwise twisted expression. She reached down and grabbed Rachel's hand, "I miss you Rach. All the time."

Rachel felt her heart leap a little but dismissed it, "I miss you too Quinn." She hesitantly added, "All the time."

A quiet moment passed between the two before Rachel spoke up, "How was she?"

The smile on Quinn's face grew and she remarked, "Perfect."

"That's a little vague," Rachel teased.

"It's the truth." Quinn smiled proudly. "She's everything." Her voice trembled with a little twinge of distain.

Rachel stomach twisted hearing the words coming out of her mouth. Quinn was breaking slowly with the knowledge that she would have to say goodbye to her daughter, and Rachel watched that realization pool over her delicate face.

"I asked Shelby to adopt her." Rachel firmly stated. Quinn's looked at her with confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I told Shelby about her, and she said she'd consider adopting her and staying in Lima." Rachel continued on trying to assess how Quinn was taking the news.

"Why'd you do that?" Quinn spat out a little angrily. Once again thoughts of _'Who does she think she is_?' trailed through her mind but she bit her tongue.

"Now you can be a part of her life. I know it's what you want." Rachel was a little scared that she was going to yell at her like every time they discussed the baby. "I was just trying to help…"

"Yeah well you shouldn't have." Quinn defiantly turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling trying to hide her tears from the kind gesture Rachel had committed. How could she still be so good to her after everything she had put her through?

Rachel was unsure whether or not to leave, but decided to be safe and slowly started walking towards the door. When her hand hit the handle Quinn called out, "Rachel, wait." She turned around and saw the plea screaming from Quinn's hazel-eyes.

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry," she paused and then added, "Again." She took a deep breath. "Just come back." She motioned towards the bed and Rachel wearily walked towards her.

"Are you going to yell at me again?" she asked softly. "I'm not gonna stay here if you keep yelling at me you know." Quinn couldn't fight the smirk on her face.

"I won't. I promise. Just, I don't know, lay with me?" she asked nervously.

Rachel raised an eyebrow but climbed back into the bed. She scooted in close to Quinn and stared up at her. "This is weird," she muttered quietly.

Quinn looked around anxiously, "Yeah…really weird." They stayed in silence, both unmoving, afraid of making it anymore awkward.

Finally Rachel settled into the pillow they shared and her eyes started to get heavy from the calm room. Quinn watched her fight the sleepiness. She wanted to reach out and confirm for Rachel that it was okay to sleep with a light brushing of hair or a light hand on her arm, but instead whispered softly in the sweetest voice she could muster, "I'm really glad you're here." A tired smile was the last thing Quinn saw before Rachel's eyes shut and she drifted off into sleep.

Quinn watched her breathe slowly in each breath and felt the air smoothly glide across her face from how close they were situated on the hospital bed. She hadn't realized she was still in the uniform dress she had been wearing earlier that day, but naturally assumed hers wasn't going to be of much use anymore after the day she had. Quinn lightly chuckled and reached down to pull her blanket up over both of them and was grateful for the warmth it provided. Although being this close to Rachel made her warm enough to not need a blanket, she didn't want the other girl to freeze in the cold room.

Taking advantage of the strange moment, Quinn relearned every inch of her face and was shocked at how much it had changed since they were little. After all she hadn't looked at her for this long since before any of the stuff went down between their parents. She regretted all of the demeaning insults she gave the poor sleeping girl over the years, realizing how wrong she had been about all of them. Quinn knew how sensitive Rachel had been about her appearance when they were younger and knew over the years it couldn't have changed much thanks to her. She admittedly used that weakness in her favor and now wished she had never said any of the hurtful insults. Not in a million years could she apologize enough for the horrible way she treated Rachel. And how wrong had she been to humiliate her? As she traced every feature, she noticed the unique beauty of Rachel's appearance. _'Very, very wrong.'_ She thought shamefully.

Quinn leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss to Rachel's forehead and settled back into the pillow. "I'm sorry Rachel." She said before her eyes drifted shut and she promptly fell out of consciousness.

* * *

><p>"Teresa I'm going to take a break. Will you go check on Mrs. Turner in room 201?" The frazzled night nurse said to her coworker who nodded.<p>

"Yeah I will but will you make sure to check the Fabray room and see if everyone is gone. A bunch of teenagers, so I doubt they understand the concept of _visiting hours_." The woman shook her head and waved off her friend to go check on another post-delivery mother.

"Of course." The black woman walked slowly down the hallway towards Quinn's room and spotted the two girls propped up against the door before she came anywhere near the door. When she got close enough she noticed the intertwined hands of the girl's and smiled softly to herself. Both were fast asleep and seemed to have been for a decent amount of time. The tall blonde one drooled heavily on top of the brunette who smiled heavily in her sleep, and the woman assumed she must be having a pleasant dream. She looked up to peer into the room and saw Quinn laying with her back facing away from the window and a tiny brunette with an arm draped snuggly across her waist. Her smile grew and she glanced back down to the girls on the floor before getting an idea. She walked back to the nurses' station and procured a blanket out of the closet. She made her way back towards the girls and draped it across them before stepping back to admire her handiwork. She trailed down the hallway and was met by the smiling face of her friend.

She shrugged her shoulders and said sweetly, "Kids." They returned to their work and let all four girls sleep peacefully through the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think :D **

**Thanks for reading ! **


	16. the breeze that almost shook us

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: After a little bit of a wait here it is. I got a little preoccupied with school and have been writing this over the last week. Longest chapter so far so I hope you like it. I figured after the wait I might as well give you a decent sized chapter. Things are about to get AU-ish pretty fast so be prepared. But I am sticking to mostly canon, just altering it. This picks up about a week into the summer after Season 1.  
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**Thanks for the reviews. I'm writing for you people! A little for me, but mostly for you :D  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Santana laid in Quinn's bed and tossed a green plush pillow up into the air over and over again while she moved from corner to corner of her room, rearranging tables and dressers. Her first task of the summer was to repaint her bedroom a light, relaxing grey color. It was a huge change from the previous bright yellow originally adorning her walls. After she worked on the color, Quinn felt it was necessary to rearrange and change the layout of her entire bedroom. She didn't want anything the same.<p>

Santana had come over to 'help' but had spent the entire time lazing on her bed and complaining when Quinn forced her to do something. It was enough for her to stop asking Santana to move altogether. That had been the case for the entire first week of summer. Quinn would call Santana, ask her if she would like to help, and then she would agree but come over and spend the whole time laying around, texting Brittany, or raiding the Fabray kitchen for all of its worth.

Eventually Quinn stopped and spat tiredly at her, "You know if you weren't going to help, you should have just stayed home."

Santana chuckled and rolled over onto her stomach facing Quinn. "Come on, you want me here. Who else would you passive aggressively be taking your anger out on?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow at her, "What are you talking about crazy?" She chucked a pillow at Santana who dodged it and sat up straight on the bed.

"You've been moping around your room for weeks after 'the big showdown' and you need me here to take in all of your repressed hostility and I, being the good friend I am, will stay until you lash out and admit how you're really feeling." Quinn was shaking her head defiantly.

"Can you please stop referring to the birth of my daughter as 'the big showdown'? It sounds like a pay-per view cage match." Her voice was heavily riddled with disdain for their topic of conversation. Santana knew she would be resilient to talk about it, since they hadn't spoken one word of that day since it happened, but she also knew _eventually _Quinn would open up.

She laughed a little to ease the tension, "No one would pay for ring-side seats to that bloodbath." She paused, becoming serious, "Come on, I know you have to be seriously stressed, just talk to me."

Quinn's expression turned furious and she shot daggers at her friend, "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not talking about it. I'm fine. It happened. She has an _adult_ parent who will care for her, and provide for her. And what's done is done. I'll get my life back now. Everything will be good." She turned her face back towards the shirt she was folding and continued, "It never happened." Santana wondered who she was trying to convince because Quinn's tone wasn't fooling her.

Santana sighed and stood up from the bed. "Yeah, that's the way to deal with it." She walked towards the door and opened it, "You're a true Fabray."

Quinn spun on her heels, "First of all you don't know anything about me and my family." She was seething at that point. "Second, where the hell do you think you're going?"

Santana slammed the door and walked within an inch of Quinn's face. "I'm not going to stay here and listen to your pathetic pity party.

Quinn tried to cut her off, "But I'm—"

"Yes you are Quinn! How the hell can you not realize that? Every time you push it under the rug, you're making it worse." She calmed herself down a little and walked backwards towards the door. "And I have better things to do with my time than listen to that."

Quinn's face fell and she hung her head shamefully. Quietly she muttered, "I'm sorry S." She returned her eyes to Santana who gave her an unconvincing sympathetic smile.

"It's fine. I have to go meet Britt at the park. I'll see ya." With that she turned and left closing the door behind her. She rushed down the stairs and walked past a frowning Judy, who had just come to investigate the commotion from the slammed door. She opened her mouth to admonish Santana but she brushed right past her and made a swift exit.

She charged down the steps and tromped heavily through the freshly trimmed grass in spite of the Fabray's. She knew how seriously they, especially Russell, prided themselves on the pristine appearance of their home and recollected their previous Homecoming when Brittany suggested the girls get their pictures taken in the front yard, only to be thoroughly yelled at the second she laid a single foot onto their perfected lawn. Santana purposely drug her feet across the ground, trying to dislodge some grass and even planted a few hard kicks to dig up some dirt, all the while making her way to her red sedan on the curb. She opened the driver-side door and peered over the top of her car to look at the few scattered imperfections in the yard and snickered lightly to herself before climbing into the car and forcing the key into the ignition. She pulled her cell out of her jean shorts and found Brittany's number in her contacts before pressing send and pulling away from the edge of the road.

She made her way towards the first streetlight as the phone rang a few times without answer. "Come on B." she muttered out loud and was quickly silenced when the ringing cut off and she heard the familiar voice flow out of the earpiece.

"Hey." A pleasant voice echoed through the phone and Santana's heart leapt a little in her chest from the tone that she knew Brittany reserved for only her. It was the perfect mixture of sweet and innocent but laced with hints of implied sexiness. How Brittany could manage that all in one simple word never surprised Santana in the slightest.

After an unnaturally long pause she regained her ability to speak and muttered a light, "Hi…"

Brittany laughed on the other end of the line and spoke through chuckles, "I thought you were with Quinn?"

"I was but, she…uh…didn't feel good so I left." She stumbled through her words and it didn't go unnoticed by Brittany.

"Lying?" Brittany asked playfully. She wasn't upset but didn't want to let her off the hook that easily.

"Sorry Britt. She's just, you know, being Quinn and I know she doesn't like it when I talk about her to other people…" Santana trailed off, afraid of hearing the disappointment in Brittany's voice. Even over the phone, she knew the face she would make and it broke her heart. She pulled down into the girl's development and navigated the familiar streets towards her house.

To her surprise, Brittany responded happily with, "I understand. You're just being a good friend." When Santana didn't respond, she laughed again, "I'm not mad. You had a legitimate reason this time."

Santana sighed internally of relief and continued on with new vigor from the positive turn the conversation had taken, "So I figured we could go hangout at the park or something?"

Brittany paused, and Santana heard a rustling in the background of her phone. "I'm actually trying to show Lord Tubbington pamphlets on crickets right now." Santana hesitated not understanding how to answer, but luckily Brittany continued, sensing from the silence that she didn't quite understand, "He's gonna be on lookout. So my stuff stops being stolen."

Santana shook her head as she pulled up outside Brittany's house and killed the engine. "Oh, well isn't there any way you could maybe, hold off on that till later," she paused and dropped her voice low and seductive, "for me?" She heard Brittany's breath catch a little and then an even more frantic rustling of papers and a clamoring she could only assume to be Brittany walking.

Santana peered up at the front window past the towering tree obscuring most of the view to see the curtain pull back and a mess of blonde hair swishing to the window. From there she could see the pearly-white smile moving, echoed by Brittany's words, "So I guess you assumed I would agree." She chuckled lightly, forgetting to force mild irritation into her tone.

"I might have," she beamed up at her from the car and watched the curtains fall back as she listened to Brittany's heavy breathing while she stormed down the stairs. She watched the front door burst open and she skipped down the path and into the passenger seat. Brittany still held the phone to her ear and so did Santana. They sat for a minute giggling at each other, still not removing their cells.

"So where are we going again?" Brittany asked into the bottom of her phone. She shifted in her seat and peered out the window ignoring Santana, who raked her eyes over every inch of Brittany, not so subtly checking her out.

Brittany was wearing light denim overall shorts, overtop a bright blue t-shirt Santana recognized from one of their cheer camps, and baby blue converse. She traced her eyes upwards to see the messy bun she must have constructed on her way down the stairs and she felt the need to reach over and brush a stray hair back but instead turned her attention to the car. She twisted the key and shifted into gear before smoothly pulling back onto the road.

"Oh you know," Santana glanced over at Brittany with a dazzling smile, "somewhere special."

* * *

><p>Quinn flopped down onto her bed and breathed out a jet of air through her nostrils. Santana's words echoed through her brain and on some level she knew they were true. Every spare minute she had, she envisioned the little eyes staring back at her and it always broke her heart. That was the purpose of keeping busy. To keep those images out of her head.<p>

Before too long she popped out her cell phone and scrolled through the numbers to find Santana's and shot her a short text.

**(3:34 PM): **I'm sorry. You were right.

Quinn set the phone down on her stomach and stared up at the ceiling awaiting a reply. She had taken up the habit of tracing the random patterns above her every chance she got. More mindless thoughts to keep herself busy. Minutes passed and she figured Santana wasn't going to answer her so she picked up her phone and scrolled through the contacts once again. When it got to Rachel's name, flashes of the night in the hospital brought a smile to her face instantly. _"It wouldn't be that weird if I texted her after that would it?" _she wondered to herself. After a shrug, she opened a new message to Rachel.

**(3:52 PM): **Hey, it's Quinn. What's up?

A few minutes passed and she got frustrated that no one seemed to want to answer her that day. Right when she was about to toss her phone aside and go downstairs to get a bottle of water, it vibrated in her hand.

**(4:00 PM) Rachel:** Would you mind if I texted you in a little bit?

Quinn stared at the screen thoroughly confused.

**(4:02 PM): **Why did you answer me if you couldn't talk?

An answer came almost instantly. She knew Rachel must have anticipated she would be curious.

**(4:02 PM) Rachel: **I didn't want you to assume I didn't want to talk to you. Now is just not…a very good time.

Quinn chuckled a little and turned over onto her stomach, kicking her feet up into the air.

**(4:03 PM): **Well you are talking to me. So I don't really see what the problem is.

**(4:05 PM) Rachel: **I just have someone over my house and I don't want to be rude.

Quinn started to type out "Someone?" but instantly erased it when the realization dawned on her. _'Oh…' _she thought distractedly while recalling the last day of glee club when she watched Rachel and Finn walk hand in hand out of the room. She ran her fingertips over the keys of her phone unable to think of an appropriate response. She figured there was no harm in confirming her suspicions, so when she freaked out, which she knew she would, Quinn could have some justification.

**(4:10 PM): **Someone as in Finn?

The response took long enough that she didn't have to open it to know she was right. When she did she found a simple "Yes." The idea infuriated her and she threw her phone restlessly across the room. Luckily it didn't make impact with the wall and fell short onto a discarded blanket she planned on storing since she had no use for it during the summer. _'I am such a girl,' _Quinn thought after disappointingly watching it drop unharmed onto the comforter.

She clenched her teeth angrily after hearing the phone go off again from the other side of the room. She rushed to it and opened the message impatiently watching the loading screen.

**(4:16 PM) Rachel: **Can I please talk to you later?

**(4:17 PM): **Just forget it Berry.

Quinn stared at the screen, torn between the frustration that the girl would _dare_ to text her back and the desperation in wishing she would.

**(4:19 PM) Rachel: **I really want to talk to you.

**(4:20 PM): **It's fine. Don't worry about it.

**(4:21 PM) Rachel: **Please.

Quinn's breath turned uneven at the plea. It was one simple word that seemed to derail her anger. As much as she wanted to hate Rachel, she couldn't. But as much as she couldn't hate Rachel, she couldn't let her win either.

**(4:23 PM): **No. Go back to Finn. Forget I bothered you.

Tossing her phone aside with finality she walked towards her dresser and pulled out a pair of running shorts and a pink sports bra. After she changed, Quinn grabbed her iPod and rushed out of her house. She paused at the front steps to put in her earphones and tuck the mp3 player into her arm band before setting off at a brisk run.

With each stride she took, Quinn felt the frustration slip eagerly through her feet; continuously willing herself to forget.

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany laid head to head in the dead center of the park staring up at the bright blue sky. They shared one set of headphones leading down to an mp3 player in between their faces. Santana loved the warmth the top of Brittany's head pushed into her own. Brittany hummed out the lyrics to the song lightly drifting into their ears. Every now and then she would mess up and forget a lyric, producing a tiny embarrassed laugh that sent a smile to Santana's face. After a particularly huge mistake Santana couldn't hold back her laughter and Brittany flipped over onto her stomach and hit her in the shoulder lightly.<p>

"Shut up." She laughed and Santana turned over to face her with a devilish smirk. Brittany reached out and hit her again.

"Ow! Stop hitting me," Santana said and shoved her back a little.

"Then stop laughing at me!" Brittany squealed out, trying to dodge her hand.

"I'm sorry. That was just funny." Brittany pouted and Santana couldn't help but laugh. She reached out a put a light hand on Brittany's shoulder. "I'm sorry. Really."

A smirk appeared on Brittany's face and she whispered, "You're so easy." She laughed and rolled back over onto her back. Santana stayed where she was and ran her fingers through the looser strands of Brittany's bun and tucked a few hairs behind her ear.

Brittany felt a tiny blush rush to her cheeks as she stared up at the dark brown eyes above her. That stare always had that effect on her no matter how hard she tried to fight it. There was such seriousness behind it that she felt like she was drowning. _'What are you thinking?' _Brittany wondered as her own eyes flitted through Santana's expression.

"I missed you yesterday," Brittany admitted. She had been forced to go on a family trip to the mall and she unsuccessfully attempted to persuade her parents to allow Santana to join them.

Santana smiled, "I missed you too. It's okay though. I understand your parent's don't want me there for everything." The Pierce's rarely refused her so she knew they must have really wanted to some 'family time.'

"_I_ want you there for everything though." Brittany pouted and Santana chuckled lightly.

"I know, B," she looked up from her for the first time before going on, "I found something to do anyway."

Brittany watched her facial features shift uncomfortably. She playfully asked, "Something or someone?"

Santana looked down at her sadly, "Britt…"

"It's fine S. I don't care," she paused, "I know it's just sex." Santana was a little shocked by Brittany's words. "Just like what we do." She looked back up at the sky trying to avoid her eyes, "Just sex."

Santana nodded her head and went to lie back down, but instead landed on the side of Brittany. They laid silently for a while before Brittany spoke up breaking the awkward tension. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm," Santana answered shortly. Her nerves were at an all time high. Brittany always found a way to steer the conversation to what she tried to keep quiet. The fact they were alone was the only thing allowing her to keep calm.

Brittany reached down between them and grabbed her hand bringing them up to hang above them. She interlaced their fingers and squeezed tight once. "What does this feel like to you?"

Santana thought about her question. _'What does it feel like?' _she wondered and sat trying to process her own feelings. She loved running her fingertips over the smooth skin on Brittany's hand. She traced her thumb lightly over the delicate skin and felt the way it slightly tensed underneath her touch. She felt her stomach flip every time Brittany would squeeze a little harder and she hated the way it felt when she would loosen her grip. It made them feel close. _'Closeness," _she thought_._

"It makes me feel like we are close, Britt. That's the only way I can describe it." Santana watched her, unable to sense what her reaction would be.

"Does it bother you?" she quickly backtracked. "I mean because we are friends? Is this _okay_?" Brittany asked.

"No… I mean yes it's okay, wait why are you asking B? Does it bother you?"

Brittany smiled, "Of course not." Her face was thoughtful again, "Me and Mike used to hold hands. I never liked it though. His hands were always gross and sweaty." They laughed a little. "I was just curious."

Santana sighed heavily, "I wish I had a boy to hold hands with."

"What do you mean?" Brittany turned onto her side to look at her. Their hands stayed clasped between them.

"I just am sick of being lonely." Brittany's eyebrows raised in confusion. "I have sex with guys like Puck or Matt and it just sucks. I don't want to date _them._ I'm really sick of the guys at our school. I wish I could meet someone."

Brittany didn't say anything and Santana finally looked over to read her expression. She saw nothing other than a tiny hint of sympathy before she continued, "Is it so wrong for me to want a relationship?"

Brittany shook her head lightly and a brought a hand down to her side and rubbed it comfortingly. "No, S. It's not wrong." She watched tears well up in the other girl's eyes and gave her hand a tiny squeeze. "You'll find someone."

Santana reached up with her other hand to wipe away a single tear that broke through her best restraints. "I know, B. Thanks."

Brittany took her hand out of Santana's and reached back to turn the volume up so it was practically bursting their eardrums. They both returned to lying on their backs and promptly shut their eyes listening to the music drown out their world.

* * *

><p>The hot water beaded down Quinn's shoulders as she leaned her forehead against the cool tile of the shower. After her hour-run through the streets of Lima she wanted a shower before bed to relax her burning muscles. Every ounce of her wanted to keep running, but the nagging knowledge that her parents would overreact and send out a search party brought her back.<p>

She reached down and twisted the shower off, and stepped out into the steamy bathroom. The dense air was intoxicating enough to send a wave of dizziness through her. After steadying herself, she wrapped a yellow towel around her body and walked out to find clothes in her bedroom. Settling on a grey tank top and red plain pajama shorts, she quickly got dressed and climbed into bed.

Quinn saw her phone resting on top of the spare pillow next to her head and debated whether or not she wanted to look and see if Rachel had texted her anymore. She sighed to herself and clamped her eyes shut. The silhouette of the phone seemed to burn through her eyelids and she reached out to grab it. Clicking a button to light up the screen, Quinn opened her eyes and saw she had 5 new messages.

'_5 New Messages?' _Quinn shook her head at the girl's persistence and opened the first one.

**(4:30 PM) Rachel:** I'll text you in a little while. Even if you don't want me to.

Quinn had to smile at that one. She scrolled down to open the next few.

**(6:28 PM) Rachel: **Quinn, will you talk to me now?

**(6:53 PM) Rachel: **Quinn?

**(8:13 PM) Rachel: **I figured if I gave you a little more time, you might have calmed down from earlier. Have you?

**(9:00 PM) Rachel: **Are you there? If it was anyone else but you, I would start to worry at this point. Please text me back Quinn.

As Quinn read through the last one, her phone went off in her hand popping up with a message alerting her of a new message. _'I wonder who this could be?' _Quinn was frustrated at that point.

**(9:43 PM) Rachel: **It's just becoming rude at this point…

She couldn't keep the smirk off her face at being able to anger Rachel Berry over text messages. She felt extremely proud, oddly. Turning on her side she typed out a new message.

**(9:45 PM): **6 messages? Really, Berry? Ever learn to take a hint?

**(9:45 PM) Rachel: **Why do you do that?

Quinn huffed not wanting to play stupid games; although at that point she started to forget why she was so mad at Rachel in the first place.

**(9:46 PM): **What?

**(9:46 PM) Rachel:** You call me Rachel when we're having good moments but when you're angry you call me Berry.

Quinn laughed a little. It never really occurred to her before but now that she thought of it, she realized Rachel was telling the truth.

**(9:47 PM): **I don't know. It's kind of funny though.

**(9:49 PM) Rachel: **I actually find it insulting.

**(9:54 PM): **Well of course you do.

**(9:55 PM) Rachel: **What is that supposed to mean?

**(9:57 PM): **Nothing.

**(9:58 PM) Rachel: **Great. You're finally talking to me but you are just as distant as if we weren't speaking.

**(10:01 PM): **Well, why don't you tell me why you found it necessary to text me 6 times in one day like a lunatic?

Quinn knew she was getting under Rachel's skin and it gave her a very satisfied feeling in the pit of her stomach. She reached up to turn out her bedside lamp in the hopes that the conversation would end quickly.

**(10:02 PM) Rachel: **If you remember, it was you who texted me actually.

Memories of earlier that day flooded back into Quinn's mind and she remembered everything. Rachel was too busy to talk to her. Busy because of Finn.

**(10:05 PM): **Yes I do recall that, I remember you couldn't talk to me because you were with Finn.

Her fingers clashed hurriedly over the keys to send another before Rachel had a chance to answer the last one.

**(10:06 PM): **Are you two together now?

Quinn stared intently at the screen waiting for a reply. After ten minutes the screen lit up like she was going to receive a text, but she was surprised to see that Rachel was calling her. Her finger hovered over the green button and against her better judgment she answered.

Quinn held the phone against her cheek and heard the small breaths Rachel was taking on the other line. "What _Rachel_?" She emphasized her name and could almost hear the frown on her face.

"I don't want to talk to you over text about something of this importance." Rachel streamed out nervously.

"Well, you have my attention." Quinn paused and Rachel didn't speak. "I'm not doing this all night. So just answer me."

"Yes. We are." Rachel said quietly.

Quinn chuckles lightly, "Wow."

"What?" The unease in Rachel's voice was not lost on her ears.

"You're unbelievable." Quinn muttered.

She could sense the anger pooling on Rachel's end of the phone before she raised her volume significantly, "Why? Why am I unbelievable?"

"He's awful to you. Berry. And you just keep going back to him." She paused to laugh again. "It's just so ridiculous."

"You dated him," Rachel argued.

"He didn't treat me like crap all the time. He was afraid of me."

"And?" she waited for Quinn to continue.

"You're easy to walk all over. I've been doing it for years. Hell, half the school has."

A light sniffing sound came from the girl and guilt hit her hard in the chest. She hadn't meant to make Rachel cry.

"Look I'm sorry. I'm just trying to be honest with you." She paused heavily, "I don't think you should be with him."

Rachel sniffed once more loudly and then finally spoke at a low volume, "H-He loves me."

Quinn held back her reflexive laughter and bit the inside of her cheek. She needed to find a surefire way to get her point across. When an idea hit her, she knew it was a low-low blow and would possibly damage Rachel even further. But she didn't know what else to say.

"Just like Jesse loved you?" Quinn bit her lip waiting for the imminent sobs she expected to come any moment. In a moment of surprise she heard Rachel's breath pick up and she began to yell.

"Are you jealous, Quinn? Is that what this is? You can't handle that someone likes me more than they like you? Not everything is about you! Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

Quinn was speechless. She pulled the phone down away from her face to check and see if Rachel had hung up but the time continued to count on. Readjusting the phone next to her face, she just sat and listened to the labored breathing spewing from the receiver.

"I don't hate you, Rachel." Eventually Quinn strung a few words together.

"I don't believe you," Rachel quickly retorted.

Quinn sighed into the phone. "You don't have to." She needed to pick her next words carefully. "I'm just…looking out for you."

Rachel sighed, sounding incredibly annoyed, "And why is that?" Her tone was so indifferent it hurt Quinn a little.

"Because I care about you," she admitted and felt a rush of blood to her face. The anxiety of waiting for Rachel's answer was broken by an ill-timed laugh.

"Really. You care about me? Alright, Quinn. As much as I love whatever this is, have a good night."

"Why are you being so ungrateful?" Quinn bit back.

"Ungrateful? That is really rich coming from you."

"I'm trying to be honest with you. All you ever do is ask me why we can't be friends, and the one time I want to reach out to you, you shove it back in my face. So _yes_, you are being _ungrateful_," Quinn replied angrily.

At that point, she was sitting upright in her bed and almost yelling into the phone. She quickly realized her strained position and laid back down into the bed waiting for Rachel's response.

Another sigh echoed through the receiver, "As much as I'd like to believe you I don't. But I appreciate you trying."

"Well that wasn't at all condescending, Quinn muttered.

"I just don't know what you want from me right now. I'm with Finn." Quinn cringed at the mention of her former boyfriend's name. "I'm sorry if that upsets you, but it's how it is."

"I know, Rach," she said sadly. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and shut her eyes tight.

"Wow."

"What?" Quinn's voice shot up loud. She wanted to be prepared if another argument was about to happen.

"And there is Rach," Rachel chuckled lightly. The lighthearted sound made Quinn smile.

"What are you going on about now crazy?"

"Berry when you're mad. Rach when you're serious. Rachel when you're enjoying yourself."

"I don't think I ever enjoy myself when you're talking to me," Quinn teased, feeling a little tension lifting from her shoulders.

"That's a lie and you know it," Rachel confidently stated.

Quinn thought for a minute before answering, "Well do you have an explanation for what mood I'm in when I use insulting nicknames?"

"Mhm," Rachel muttered proudly.

"Care to enlighten me?"

"You only call me names like that when there are other people around. Manhands, RuPaul, Treasure-Trail. They're all for show," Rachel explained in one breath.

"Sure about that?" Quinn teased again, keeping her voice playful. She had to admit, the conversation wasn't as dreadful as she anticipated.

"Yes I am. When you are on the receiving end of it, you have a lot of time to process," she said but didn't sound at all disappointed. It didn't surprise Quinn in the slightest. It only reminded her of the stubborn girl she grew up with.

"Well then, Rachel. I'm glad you can find the silver lining. Meanwhile I am exhausted and would like to go to sleep. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah I can imagine you're exhausted from your run. You looked extremely winded when I saw you earlier."

Quinn scrunched her eyebrows together. "Saw me? Are you seriously stalking me or something?" Quinn asked through a laugh but her question wasn't all that much of a joke.

"Yes. I'm stalking you. I can see you sitting in your bed right now under the sheets, holding your phone in your left hand." Rachel said seriously.

"Okay that's just creepy." Quinn said as she looked down to see her left arm stretched out underneath the weight of her cell. Peering over at the window out of the corner of her eye, she didn't think she saw the brunette perched on the tree. She pulled her sheet up a little more snug around her body.

"Ugh," Rachel started, "It's summer so you wouldn't need a comforter, and you always face away from the window when you sleep. I remember that much at least from sleepovers. Because it scares you that someone could be outside the window watching you. And since the window is on the back wall of your bedroom, you would be on your right side, forcing you to use your left hand. Mystery solved."

Quinn laughed and shifted farther down into her bed. "I don't know what's scarier. You stalking me," Rachel scoffed lightly, "or you remembering something like that about me."

"Four years of friendship is a little hard to forget. Actually, as much time as we spent together it was probably more like 10 years of friendship." Her tone was nostalgic and it sent a sick feeling of sadness through Quinn's body.

"Seriously Rachel, I'm going to bed." Quinn deflected the topic and tried to end the conversation as quick as possible.

"Alright. Me too." Rachel said apprehensively. Her words begged her to stay on the phone, but Quinn knew exactly where they were headed and was not ready to dive into that quite yet.

"Goodnight," she said with finality.

"Goodnight Quinn." The line went dead and Quinn pulled the phone away from her ear and plugged it into the charger before settling down into her pillow. Just as her eyes began to get heavy a vibration from her phone wrenched them open again. She smirked, knowing it would only be one person.

**(11:02 PM) Rachel: **I have a question.

**(11:02 PM): **It really can't wait?

**(11:04 PM) Rachel: **You already answered me ;)

**(11:05 PM): **What Rach?

There was a long wait between her last text and the new one during which Quinn had to fight to stay awake. Curiosity kept her conscious despite her body's best try to pull her into sleep. Finally it came.

**(11:12 PM) Rachel: **Are we going to be friends?

The words struck Quinn and she couldn't think of an answer. Her mind was already too jumbled from sleep-deprivation so her instinct was to go with her gut answer; even if Rachel wouldn't like it.

**(11:15 PM): **I don't think so.

After turning her phone over so the light no longer blinded her, her eye-lids betrayed her and she fell deep into sleep.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Day<em>

"Lopez!" The barista called out and Santana made her way to the front of the small coffee shop. The morning had passed by slowly and she felt like a trip to her favorite café would entertain her. Standing in front of the counter she took her first sip and the burning hot liquid travelled down her body, sending a comfortable warmth through her limbs. Tasting this heavenly drink, she couldn't understand why everyone always chose to go to the Lima Bean instead. Here at Coffee Joe's or John's (she couldn't really care which), the coffee was always delectable and the clientele were significantly more interesting.

She trailed her way over to a corner table and stared out the front window watching people pass by. Santana loved to people-watch, not because she liked to judge everyone, but because she found it interesting to see how people acted when they thought no one was looking. It gave her the sense that no one cared what anyone else did, and that pleased her. She would love to feel that way about herself. But being on the Cheerio's, the daughter of a prestigious doctor, and a resident hot-girl of McKinley High, she had standards people expected of her. She took another large gulp of her coffee and settled back into her seat. Santana paid no attention to the rustling of chairs behind her and only became aware of the figure behind her when a loud noise sounded and a stream of luke-warm liquid sprayed onto her bare legs. She was up out of her seat and screaming instantly.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" A guy apologized and leaned down with a napkin attempting to wipe the coffee off her legs. "I tripped over the leg of the chair. I didn't mean to—"

"Are you kidding me?" She finally caught sight of the boy's face and realized he had to be only a few years older than her. His blonde hair fell loosely around his face and where she expected bright blue, she was met with smoldering brown eyes. Resuming her tantrum she yelled again, "You spilled your coffee on me _pendejo_! And you're _sorry? _How the hell does that fix anything?"

He stood up and looked her in the face. "Look, it was an accident. I'm trying to apologize to you." His eyes bore into hers and he said in the sweetest voice Santana could imagine coming out of his mouth, "I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically and she chuckled darkly.

"Sorry. Yeah that helps me a lot. Well how about we settle this," she said defiantly.

"Okay then," he returned politely. She reached behind herself and grabbed her coffee. When she wrenched off the lid, his eyes widened at the steam still billowing out of the top of it. "Whoa, wait. My drink was cold." He pointed to top of her cup and Santana looked down and chuckled again.

"Well, uh…" she paused, realizing she didn't know his name.

He smiled at her and filled in, "Tommy."

She grinned, "Well _Tommy, _you spilled your drink on me. And I think it's only fair that I get to return the favor."

Before he had a chance to protest, she threw the drink down onto his khaki-clad thighs. Tommy jumped backwards and brought both hands to rest against his drenched pants. He looked up at her with a mild pain in his eyes. "Didn't hurt," he said confidently even though she could see the stress on his face.

"Really?" She smirked at him and walked closer. She leaned down and gave a hard slap to his right thigh. He jumped back again and let out a yelp in pain. "Definitely sounds like it hurt."

He looked up at her with an almost identical smirk to her's, "Yeah well you just scared me. I'm fine."

Santana couldn't help but laugh at his stubbornness. She stretched her hand out and offered it to him. He tried to play off the flinch from her action, and reached out to take her hand and shake it firmly.

"Santana," she said calmly. "And I already know your name." She turned around to grab her purse and slung it over her arm. "Nice to meet you. I guess."

He smiled as she started to walk out the door. When she was almost through the entrance he called out, "We should do this again sometime."

She turned around and smiled genuinely at him, "Spill coffee on each other?"

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. "Coffee, water, maybe even food." He chuckled.

"That sounds very tempting." She looked out the door and then walked back up to Tommy. She reached into her purse and found her phone. She pushed it into his hands.

"Put your number in," Santana instructed the boy who awkwardly held her phone.

After typing the keys he handed it back and looked down to grab his own phone out of his front pocket. When he glanced back up she was already on her way out of the shop. "Wait. You didn't give me your number."

Santana gave him a devilish smirk and yelled back, "I'll call you." She peered over her shoulder once more before exiting, "If I feel like it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** **Buh, buh bummmm. Just kidding. **

**thanks for reading :D review if you'd like!**


	17. can we start all over

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: I have nothing to say other than enjoy my dear readers :D Still in the summer. A few more chapters before I'll start season 2. **

**Janetivo-Salvatore-Bieber-Thank you! That's incredibly sweet! I'm trying to update as fast as I possibly can!**

**Breakdown6-Your reviews always entertain me lol they are turning into a crazy group of girls lol **

**Minerva-McBadass-First of all thank you for having an awesome name to have to type ;) Secondly, Faberry is becoming less-heartbreaking soon and you'll see what I mean after this one :)  
><strong>

**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"Favorite television show?" Tommy asked Santana after swallowing a huge bite of ice cream.<p>

"Seriously? That's what were gonna talk about?" Santana looked at him in disbelief before groaning loudly. "We could be getting our mack on right now, and you're worried about what I watch."

Tommy laughed sweetly, "Do you realize how messed up it is that I am the one who wants to talk? _You're _supposed to be the one stopping _me_." He poked her lightly in the side.

She smirked at him, "Wait, are you gay?" She hit herself in the head softly, "It all makes sense now. If you start asking me about my _feelings_ I'm going to have to find you a boyfriend."

He sat his bowl down on the side table and leaned over across the soft mattress beneath them and grabbed her hips roughly. The touch sent a spark through her body. "Do I have to show you how un-gay I am?" His voice was low and he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. He pulled back and she looked into his deeply smoldering eyes.

"I might need a nice refresher," Santana grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips roughly back into her own.

It had been about three weeks since their unconventional meeting at the coffee shop and they had barely spent a day without seeing each other. Santana discovered Tommy went to Rhodes State College, only a short drive out of Lima, and was home for that day visiting his parents who lived only a few streets away from Quinn's house. They hadn't had sex yet, much to Santana's concern, because Tommy "didn't think it was right," or so he had told her. Every time they got close he would put a stop to it and she was left extremely frustrated. But besides those moments, she really liked spending time with him and it was the first guy she thought she actually had feelings for.

"Mmm…no." He pulled back from her and she looked up at him scornfully. Tommy chuckled at her pout and gave her a light peck before sitting back up and grabbing his bowl. Santana sat up and leaned into his side. He dropped the bowl to his lap and ate with one hand while wrapping the other one snugly around her shoulders.

"Pretty Little Liars." She smirked up at him. "Yours?"

Tommy swallowed another spoonful and a small drop dribbled down his chin. She chuckled and leaned up to lick it off his face. His face flushed and his eyes darkened. Tommy leaned down and kissed her again. She pushed her tongue between his lips and was shocked that for the first time he didn't stop her. His hand dropped and ran down her side, settling at the exposed skin above her hip. He ran it up under her shirt and then dragged his nails down the tight muscles in her back. Santana dropped her mouth to his neck and started biting the skin softly. After a few minutes he pushed her away again and wrapped her back up in his one arm. Santana sighed again.

"You know if you keep doing that I'm going to end up exploding or something." She laughed to herself, "You are a bigger tease than most girls I know."

Tommy chuckled and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You'll survive."

"We'll see," she said and burrowed her face into his chest. She brunette loved how he smelled, even if it was just the simple detergent fragrance.

"House," he muttered. Her eyebrow raised in confusion. "My favorite show."

"Ew," she said and Tommy laughed at her. "Too many people throw up on that show."

"You're such a girl," he teased her.

She looked up at him seriously, "Would you rather I be something else?"

He narrowed his eyes at first and then a grin spread across his face. "Of course not. I want you exactly the way you are." Her heart fluttered a little. "Even if you can't keep it in your pants."

Santana smacked him roughly in the chest.

"Okay I'm sorry." He dropped his voice, "At least you don't hit like a girl." She glared up at him and he smirked and held up a hand in defense. "_Please_ don't hit me again."

She gave him a toothy smile and then settled back against his chest. Tommy brought his other arm down and hugged her close against him. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "So are we hanging out tonight?"

Santana tried to remember if she had any plans. Nothing popped into her head initially so she shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe."

"Well that's promising," he teased. She chuckled quietly into his side.

Before Santana got a chance to answer, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She wrenched herself out of his arms to pull the device out of her pocket. _'Why do I wear such tight shorts?' _she thought as she finally managed to get it out. She saw immediately that Brittany had texted at her and a smile tore across her cheeks.

"Someone looks happy." Tommy muttered with a grin.

And in reality, Santana was really happy to hear from her friend. She and Brittany hadn't spent a lot of time together since she met the boy and it made her kind of miserable. For some reason whenever she found free time to spend with Brittany, she would decline and say she already had plans with Kurt or Quinn. It almost felt like Brittany was avoiding her. So when the girl had made the first move to contact her, she had to know right away what she wanted. She needed her best friend again.

**(3:27 PM) Brittany:** Hey, a few ppl are going to the movies tonight and Quinn thought I should invite you. If you're not busy…

'_Quinn thought,'_ so Brittany didn't care if she was there or not. It hurt her to know Brittany hadn't thought to invite her in the first place.

**(3:28 PM):** Of course. I'll be there :)

**(3:29 PM) Brittany:** Great. We're going to see Toy Story 3 at 8:35. See you there.

Santana grinned, knowing only Brittany could convince anyone to go see that movie. Then she wondered who else was part of that 'we.'

**(3:30 PM): **Wait who else is going?

Tommy reached up and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back into him. She tugged away and gave him a look that could only mean "stop." He held up his hands in defense again and turned his head away from her.

**(3:33 PM) Brittany:** Quinn, Kurt, and Me

'_Kurt and Quinn?' _Santana laughed at the idea of the former cheerleader in the same room as Kurt. She imagined a bloodbath might occur so the prospect of that alone persuaded her that there was no way she could miss out on this. Another message came from Brittany.

**(3:35 PM) Brittany:** Yes, Kurt AND Quinn. I made them both promise to be nice to each other.

**(3:37 PM): **Well honestly I hope they don't. It might be fun ;)

Tommy sighed noisily behind her and seemed annoyed that Santana's eyes were glued to her phone. She turned and smiled sweetly to reassure him that she was almost done.

**(3:39 PM) Brittany: **Yeah, well I'll see you there.

**(3:40 PM): **Okay :) Bye Britt !

She dropped her phone onto her side table and turned back to him. He smiled at her and asked, "So who was that?"

"Brittany. She wants me to come to the movies with them tonight." She trailed a hand up his chest and let it sit overtop of where his heart pounded beneath the white fabric of his t-shirt.

Shocked, he asked, "Wait I thought we were hanging out tonight?" Santana looked up and smiled apologetically at him.

"I'm sorry. I just…" She watched the hurt in his eyes and a part of her wanted to take back her words to Brittany saying she would come, but an even larger part told her she needed to see her friend. "I haven't seen her in a long time."

Tommy's eyes focused on his hand as he picked his index finger with his thumb. He didn't say anything and she forced his head up using a finger against the underside of his chin. "Do you want me to text her back and tell her I'm busy? I will." Santana started to reach for her phone again when his hand grabbed her wrist softly.

"No, I understand. It's okay." He smiled at her. "She's your best friend and you miss her. Go have fun." Santana smiled brightly and leaned in to leave a soft lingering kiss to his lips. When she leaned back she watched his eyes scan over her body and it sent a delicious tingle to her stomach.

"I don't have to be there for another few hours you know." She started rubbing slow circles into his chest with her fingertips. Her voice dropped low and she whispered seductively, "Any ideas what we can do until then?"

He smirked at her and whispered in a husky voice, "I can think of a _few_ things." Just as she started to close the distance between them, he hurriedly stood up and walked over to sit in the computer chair a few feet away. "Favorite food?"

Santana huffed out a loud groan and dropped back onto the bed.

* * *

><p>Brittany followed Quinn through her house as she tried to clean up the dishes from her family's dinner. Brittany had invited herself over to get ready for the movies later that night and had been nothing short of annoying every second she was there.<p>

"Wait so why do you put the dishes in the oven?" she asked Quinn thoughtfully. She sighed in response.

"B, it's not an oven. It's the _dishwasher_. It washes the dishes." She tried to explain, but Brittany looked even more confused.

She put a finger to her perplexed chin, "How does it clean them?" Her eyes widened, "Are there little people in there?" When Quinn opened the front of the machine, Brittany peered inside to check.

"No Britt, it just sprays water." Quinn shut it and twisted the timer around. She turned around to face the girl who looked extremely depressed. "What?" she asked her.

Brittany shook her head, "It would be cooler if there were little people."

Quinn chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Yeah it totally would." She loved Brittany. When she needed a good break from reality, listening to her ideas always brought a smile to her face. Not because she wanted to make fun of her, but because Quinn missed when all of their minds thought in a similar way.

Quinn decided to change the subject as they walked towards the living room. "When is Kurt coming over?" They both dropped down onto the couch and Brittany flipped the TV on.

"He's not," She answered. "Santana and he are going to meet us there."

"Figures," Quinn spat. She didn't see why Brittany needed to include him in all of their summer activities. She missed when it was just the three or even two of them. Kurt felt like an intruder.

"What does?" Brittany asked and turned her head to look at her friend.

"I guess he's too _good_ to come over to my house. God forbid he set foot in here."

Brittany shook her head, "I really don't understand why you two don't get along."

"He just annoys me. He's such a cry-baby about everything," Quinn explained tiredly. It truly annoyed her that he couldn't just stand up for himself. He always needed to play the victim.

"Yeah but Quinn, did you ever think maybe it's because he looks like a baby?" Brittany deadpanned and it brought a smile to her face.

"That actually makes a lot of sense, Britt." Brittany looked satisfied and Quinn's thoughts turned to Santana.

"Wait why isn't Santana coming over then?" she curiously asked.

Brittany didn't even try to control the scowl on her face. "She's with Tommy."

"Tommy?" Quinn asked. Nobody had ever mentioned him around her before.

"Yeah that guy she met who's in college. He's studying orgasmic-chemistry or something." Her face lit up when an idea hit her, "Maybe that's why Santana is with him." She snorted at the end of her rant.

Quinn suppressed a laugh, "It's probably _organic_-chemistry, B. What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, he's _perfect._ She wouldn't stop talking about him the last time I saw her." Brittany started pressing the buttons on the remote a little rougher.

Quinn was a little disappointed Santana hadn't shared the latest development in her love life with her. But then again she never talked about anything serious with the girl; well anything other than what concerned the girl seated a few feet away from her. But she was glad to hear something positive was going on in her friend's life. No matter how obviously it was upsetting Brittany, Santana deserved it.

"She sounds happy," Quinn admitted and flinched when Brittany slammed the remote down against the couch.

"Yeah, good for her. I'm glad she's _so_ happy." Brittany stood up and started pacing the room.

Quinn stared at her confusedly, "Why are you so mad Britt? You should be happy for her. She's your best friend."

"Someone should tell her that," Brittany yelled angrily. "I'm sure they could if she spent a minute away from him."

"Aw, B." Quinn stood up and pulled Brittany into a hug, rubbing calming circles into her shoulder blades. "Hey it'll be okay. They are just spending a lot of time together because they just met. Eventually she'll find a rhythm and balance her time better."

Brittany sniffed against Quinn's shoulder, "Yeah I know. It just sucks right now."

"I know." Quinn squeezed her hard and Brittany finally pulled back wiping a few stray tears off of her face.

"We need to get going," she said with a tight smile. Quinn knew she was trying her hardest to be happy and it almost broke her heart.

"Okay, let's go." Quinn smiled reassuringly and hoped a little bit of her positive attitude would rub off on her. When she followed Brittany out of the house, she caught a glance of the girl's face in the hallway mirror and knew it hadn't worked.

* * *

><p>"Where is she?" Kurt asked tiredly. They had been waiting for Santana to show up for the last twenty minutes with worried eyes on the entrance. Brittany had gotten bored after the first five minutes and walked over to play games in the arcade.<p>

"Chill out ladyface," Quinn spat at him, "she'll be here." With a skeptical expression, she looked over to where Brittany was playing a generic version of "Cruisin' USA" and silently prayed Santana showed up.

Kurt snorted, "Real original, preggo."

Quinn smirked at him, "_Right_, because 'preggo' is _completely _original. Kudos to you, Hummel." She tipped an imaginary hat and he scowled at her. When she turned back around to face the doors, she saw a flustered Santana rushing past a few middle-schoolers.

When she finally made her way up to the smiling blonde and her not-so-smiling companion she let out a deep sigh of relief. "Whew, thought I wasn't gonna make it there for a second."

Kurt looked down at an imaginary watch and scowled playfully at his bare arm, "And you made it with, no minutes to spare. Congratulations, would you like a prize?"

"Shut up Kurt." Santana shoved him in the shoulder lightly and he smirked at her. She looked up at the giant digital clock on the back wall of the room. "We still have ten minutes. I'm good." She looked around and noticed the absence of her best friend, "Wait where's Britt?"

Quinn pointed over towards the games and Santana rushed over to collect her. Kurt meanwhile turned his back and saw a lumbering figure bounding up towards the concession near where they were standing. "Well, hello Finn!" he said sweetly and Quinn had to turn and raise an eyebrow at the obvious flirt in his voice. When he noticed Finn was making his way over to the two of them, she looked for any route of escape. She didn't want to disturb Brittany and Santana and before she had a chance to make another decision, Finn was standing square in front of them.

"Hey, Quinn." He gave her a boyish smile that she wanted to slap off his face. "Of all the people I'd think to see at the movies together," he pointed back and forth between the two, "you guys are the least expected on the list."

Quinn put up her hand in protest, "No, I am not here with Hummel. Well," she squinted her eyes, "I am, but only because Brittany and Santana are here too." She pointed backwards to the wall where the two girls were now racing each other and obviously enjoying themselves. Quinn had to smile for a moment, knowing that there wasn't much that could keep Brittany _truly_ mad at the Santana. Once you put them back together, they were once again inseparable.

Finn scratched his head, "Oh, well that makes sense."

Kurt looked behind Finn to see if there was anyone around that he might have been at the movies with and was pleased that no one seemed to be in sight. Before he had a chance to comment, Quinn interrupted him.

"What brings you to the movies?" she asked sweetly and followed Kurt's similar action of looking behind him, "Is Puck here? I know he was trying to get me to go see _Get Him to the Greek _with him." She chuckled a little in spite of Puck's persistence in trying to get together with her again. _'Been there, done that,' _Quinn thought bitterly.

"Actually no, I'm here with Rachel." The name made Quinn's heart drop in her chest. Of course Finn would be here at the movies with his _girlfriend_. She internally scowled forcing herself to think the title.

"Well where is Ms. Diva 2010?" Kurt's sour words were all too recognizable in her ears.

Finn gave him a slight frown and then muttered, "She's already in the theatre. I came out to get us a drink." He indicated the bottle of water he had been holding the whole time, that neither Quinn nor Kurt seemed to notice.

"Oh what movie are you seeing?" Quinn asked and before Finn had a chance to answer, Brittany and Santana joined the uncomfortable group of teens.

"Finnocence. What brings you here? Did Britt invite you too?" She asked and turned to the girl attached to her side for confirmation.

Kurt spoke up first, "No he's here with Rachel."

"Where is the little munckin?" Santana bit harshly and Brittany pulled her arm once, warning her to knock it off.

"Enough Santana." Everyone was surprised to hear Quinn scold her and turned their eyes to her. "What? We need to get in there. It's about to start."

"What movie are you all seeing?" Finn curiously asked. Quinn silently pleaded to herself that they were in theatres far apart from each other. Having to watch Finn and Rachel together seemed like a challenge she was not ready to accept. But she knew it was useless; if _Rachel_ picked the movie—which she knew Rachel would have done due to her bossy-tendencies—there was only one movie that would interest her.

With a scowl, Finn finally said, "Rach made us see Toy Story 3…" He trailed off, making it apparent to everyone that he had no choice in the matter. Quinn had a small smirk in response to his annoyance.

"Us too!" Brittany squealed. "We can all sit together!"

Santana's eyes widened, "Uh no Britt, they are probably on a date. And the last thing I'm doing is watching Frankenteen make out with the Hobbit for the whole movie."

"Oh…" Brittany's voice was full of disappointment. Santana needed to find way to bring a smile back to her face as her eyes trailed over the snack counter.

"Hey B, do you want to get candy real quick?" She smiled brightly and Brittany's face lit up once again.

"Yes!" She yelled and practically dragged her over to the counter.

Finn watched them go and then turned to look at Quinn and Kurt awkwardly. "Uh, well…let's head in then." Kurt clapped his hands and kept in stride with Finn.

"Yeah," Quinn responded and followed close behind Kurt and Finn into the theatre.

* * *

><p>'<em>This movies sucks!'<em> Santana thought as she watched the movie which was only twenty minutes in. She understood that they had grown up with _Toy Story_ but they really could have stopped at the first one. It was just sad at that point. She imagined all of the aged, graying—or already bald—men recording their voices while tripping over walkers and canes. She smirked as the idea kept her more entertained than the movie.

A smooth arm slid through and hooked with her own on her left side and her eyes drifted to see the overly-excited blonde staring attentively at the screen. She swore Brittany's eyes hadn't left the screen once since the beginning of the movie. If she didn't know it was a stupid idea she would have sworn she never even saw Brittany blink once. Her heart pounded at seeing how happy she was and she knew no feeling felt greater.

When her sight drifted past Brittany's face, she noticed a very anguished looking Quinn who seemed to be looking anywhere other than the screen. Every few moments she would hold her gaze a lot longer than she did on other spots, and then would scan the room again, only to return to that spot and hold her stare again. After noticing the pattern, Santana tried to follow Quinn's gaze to whatever was so interesting. A few unsuccessful attempts later and she finally saw that her focus was drawn to a tiny mop of brown hair pushed back neatly with a bright green headband. Trying to adjust her vision, Santana leaned to the side a little, obstructing Kurt's view, to get a better look at who Quinn was so busily staring at. Kurt huffed and she turned to give him a heated glare which shut him up quickly. She smirked and then returned to her task of figuring out who the mystery person was. When she glided her view to the right slightly, she noticed the figure next to her towered over the person significantly. She would recognize that mess of hair anywhere and realized she was looking at one, Finn Hudson. _'But that would mean that the girl next to him was…'_ Santana thought and almost as if the girl knew she had finally figured it out, Rachel turned her face to look up at her boyfriend.

'_Quinn's staring at Rachel?'_ Santana's thoughts raced and she tried to piece her jumbled thoughts together. She knew they had some type of sorted past and that Quinn sometimes thought of Rachel as a friend. But there was no reason why she would need to be _staring_ at her for the majority of the movie.

Suddenly everything started to fall into place and the realization hit her all at once. _'Quinn's into Berry!' _her mind shouted. She awkwardly looked over at Brittany, unreasonably believing she could have heard her inner thoughts. Her friend turned to her and gave her a tiny smile but instantly returned her eyes to the movie.

It all made sense. The reason Rachel had been the only person allowed in Quinn's hospital room other than herself. Why Quinn felt it was necessary to harass Berry at _every_ opportunity she had. She remembered seeing how happy Quinn was after Rachel and Jesse broke up, despite the unfortunate egging the girl had received in the process.

Even further back in her mind a much more distant memory came to the forefront. When every detail became clear, she knew she had a way to make Quinn happy. Santana stressed her brain trying to remember if she still knew where it was. A perfect idea formulated in her head.

With one final glance at her friend who was still staring intently at the back of Rachel's head, Santana couldn't help the smirk permanently glued to her face.

* * *

><p>Rachel had been pulling down her blanket to crawl into her bed when she heard a loud commotion coming from the bottom of the steps. Rachel had just gotten home from her date with Finn a few hours earlier and after a little time on the elliptical and a shower she decided to go to sleep. She was stressed out from having to explain to him why the movie would have been so much better if the toys had broken out into song. He ignored her as always and fought back about how not everything needed singing; an idea she wholeheartedly disagreed with.<p>

Her daddy Leroy's voice boomed throughout the house and she didn't understand what could be annoying him _this_ late at night. After the noise didn't stop for another few minutes she got up and made her way to the staircase.

"Look just let me in," an oddly-familiar voice reasoned. Rachel couldn't place who it belonged to as she walked down the first couple of steps.

"I don't even know who you are!" Leroy yelled and tried to close the door. Whoever it was had a strong enough grip to keep the door propped open.

"I'm a…friend…of your daughters," the voice said and Rachel started to descend the last few steps, fearing she knew who was on the other side.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked as she rounded the open door and was met face to face with an estranged Santana.

Santana's face softened at seeing her appear behind her father. "Great, Berry can you please tell your father here, that I'm your friend and I'm allowed into the house."

"Well I wouldn't particularly say _friend_," Rachel started but was silenced by a glare, "Right, sorry. You can let her in dad."

Leroy looked at his daughter in disbelief, "You expect me to let this lunatic into my house? She literally just intimidated you into agreeing with her."

"Calm down Papa Berry," Santana said and he turned to scowl at her. "I just have some bizness to attend to with Ber-Rachel." She smiled the sweetest smile she could muster and he seemed unaffected.

"I don't want her in this house Rachel," he firmly stated.

"Oh come on—" Santana yelled out and Rachel gave her a fierce look in response.

"Santana! Please…be quiet," Rachel argued. The other girl made a motion of zipping up her mouth, twisting a key, and tossing it behind her. The smart-alec move and the smirk on her face only seemed to enrage Leroy even more.

"She's not even in the house yet and she's already disrespecting me," he said bluntly and didn't bother to hide the loathing in his voice.

"She's always like this. I don't think she means to be though," Rachel thought out loud and Santana rolled her eyes.

Leroy sighed and knew he was going to lose the battle. Rachel still held a grudge for shutting the door in another one of her "friend's" faces a while back and he knew if he didn't let this _awful_ girl into his house, his daughter would have one more thing to hold against him.

"Fine, but it's late and I don't want her to stay long." He turned his attention to a grinning Santana, "Do you understand me?"

She saluted him and barged her way into the house. Rachel started walking them up the stair and when they finally reached her door, Santana pushed past her and flopped down onto Rachel's bed.

"No, please, make yourself at home," Rachel said as she shut the door behind them.

Santana laughed, "I had enough of the attitude from your _lovely_ father down there. Is he always like that?"

Rachel wanted to laugh at how visibly frustrated Santana had managed to make her father. "Not really. _Rude_ people always seem to bring out the _best_ in him." She smiled at Santana who awkwardly returned it before Rachel continued. "Well since we need to follow _some_ of his rules, maybe you can tell me why you're barging into my house at 11 o'clock at night?"

"Right," Santana started, "before I say anything you need to know that I personally do not like to get into other people's _bidness_." Rachel raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Okay, I do but not my girl Quinn's. She's like a sister to me and I'd do anything to see her happy."

"Wait, Quinn?" Rachel asked. "I'm not following."

"Don't interrupt midget." The way she said _midget_ didn't strike Rachel as insulting, but almost as common as if someone would have called her _Rachel_. It oddly didn't bother her.

"Anyways, I've been noticing she's been acting weird lately, especially towards you." She looked up and became lost in thought, "Actually if I think about it, she's always acted weird. Well not actually weird, considering I just figured out the reason why, and it actually makes _a lot_ of sense after all these years."

Rachel interrupted her, "And people think I ramble…" Santana smirked at her and sat up from her spot on the bed and moved towards her. She reached a hand in her back pocket and handed Rachel an oddly-shaped piece of paper that looked faded from age.

Rachel could imagine the original shape, had it not been for the torn edges and the spots where it seemed to be missing little decorations. Someone had obviously put a lot of thought into it.

After another minute of turning the paper over in her hands, she looked back up at Santana, "What is this?"

"What does it look like genius?" Santana rebuffed.

Rachel laughed a little nervously, "Well I appreciate the sentiment Santana, but it's July."

Santana's eyes went wide in exhilaration, "Oh my god! You think this is from me?

"You handed it to me, so I would say, yes I do," Rachel stated factually.

"Berry, open the friggin thing. It's not from me." Santana laughed and watched as she opened the misshapen paper.

When it fell open, Rachel's eyes went wide as her eyes trailed over the delicate cursive and knew immediately who had constructed it. The tattered, yellow heart fell from her hands and dropped to the floor beneath her.

Santana leaned down and grabbed it, "Whoa be careful. I've had this for like six years and _I _took much better care of it then you have in the last thirty seconds. I never thought I'd actually have a reason to keep it. Actually I did plan on trying to use it as blackmail at some point…" Her words became unintelligible as Rachel read through the words that were now forever planted in her mind. Quinn made her this. A _long_ time ago. Racing thoughts of _'What does this mean?'_ were only broken when something Santana said sparked her attention.

"Wait what did you just say," she asked Santana, who rolled her eyes and began to repeat herself.

"I _said_, when I saw Quinn staring at you during the movie tonight, it all kind of made sense to me."

"What made sense to you?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know. Everything," Santana muttered and started to fidget uncomfortably. "Look, she's one of the most important people in the world to me, but like I said I'm not going to interfere any more than this. Just," she paused heavily, "just look back at everything that's happened and try to look at things from her perspective. Quinn might start to make a lot more sense to you after this. Anyways I've got to go." Santana padded over to the door and was halfway through when Rachel called out to her.

"Wait, what do you mean after _this_? I don't understand what _this_ is." Rachel pleaded for any sort of explanation the other girl was willing to offer.

Santana smirked, "You really want me to spell it out for you?" Rachel nodded. "She likes you idiot. And from where I look at it, she probably always has." Before shutting the door she ended their conversation with, "Night Berry."

The door slammed and Rachel was left alone to process everything she had been told. Part of her wished her father had shut the door on Santana and never let her into the house. But the other half of her knew she wasn't lying. _Everything_ did make sense now.

Quinn Fabray made her a valentine.

Quinn Fabray might have had feelings for her.

Quinn Fabray might _still_ have feelings for her.

As she traced her fingertips over the pink script, the burning question in her head was, _'Does Rachel Berry have feelings for Quinn Fabray?'_

* * *

><p><strong>I'm clearing out some angst to make way for some more fluff. Expect that in a few more chapters. You actually might get to see some happy couples :) Yay! I know I'm excited for that :D<strong>

**Thanks for reading ! Reviews are always nice :)**


	18. we are the image of our parents

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: I am very very sorry for how long this update took. My computer literally broke, like it wouldn't even turn on, so I had a whole week where I couldn't write and then I went away for thanksgiving and couldn't write then. So after all my excuses here you go! A bit of a longer chapter since I felt like you deserved it after the wait. Sole Brittana-esque chapter.  
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**Thank you for all the reviews. For a lot of you that don't care for Tommy...well...did you really think he was gonna be around long? ;)  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"Isn't there anywhere else we could go?" Tommy reached over and grabbed Santana's hand to get her attention. She jumped at the contact and then peered over at him with a scowl.<p>

"What's wrong with it?" She asked with annoyance. He pulled the car into the Breadstix parking lot. When he parked and shut off the car he looked back at her once more with a desperate look in his eyes.

"It's not that there's anything _wrong_ with it," Santana raised an eyebrow at him and he continued on with less confidence, "just that we _always_ come here. There are tons of other restaurants we could be going to instead."

They exited the car and quickly made their way towards the front door. When Tommy held the door for Santana, she only scoffed at his overly-nice behavior. She knew he was only showing off to give his suggestion a little more validation. _'As if I'm depriving him of __**better **__food,' _she thought as the hostess led them to a booth Santana had more or less claimed as her own. The employees knew her from her frequent visits with Brittany. As they took their seats, behind an unfaltering scowl, she asked him, "Such as?"

Tommy raised a hand to run fingers through shaggy blonde hair, "I don't know..." She stared at him expectantly. "We could go to—"

Santana cut him off, "I swear on all the breadsticks in this establishment if you say Taco Bell, I'm getting my own table."

"It's not _that_ bad," he muttered quietly. Tommy glanced up to see her looking at him incredulously.

"Just because you and all of your meathead friends think you can eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner doesn't mean I have to. And what were we going to do," she paused to laugh good-heartedly, "have our date in plastic chairs surrounded by screaming kids?" She placed a hand over his, "_Real romantic._"

"Hey you're the one that wanted to keep our anniversary low key. I would have been perfectly fine going to a big fancy restaurant where I could have," Tommy raised his voice to sound proper, "courted you milady."

Santana chuckled through a small bite of breadstick she had grabbed from the basket at the edge of the table. "First of all, only twelve year olds celebrate three-week anniversaries. _I_ would have been fine not celebrating at all. Second, there is nowhere in Lima to 'court' anyone. Third, who says the word court?"

He made a move to fasten his tie tighter, "Gentlemen." He smirked at her playfully.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Right, gentlemen. Believe me, I remember _that_ about you more than anything."

Tommy's eyes narrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Meanwhile a waitress came up to interrupt their conversation and her ordered for the both of them and before Santana got a chance to get a word in, the woman had already walked away and his eyes were back on her. "Well?" he asked with an unnatural urgency.

Santana looked around to survey the other customers and realized they were mostly secluded in their zone of the restaurant. She looked past Tommy's shoulder to see the table that she tried to usually take. It sat in a far corner and nobody ever wanted to use the aged and crooked chairs so she wasn't surprised to see it empty. That fact gave her a weird sense of satisfaction. "For you gentlemen means: anniversaries, opening car doors, and most importantly, you will not just have sex with me already." Her eyes had a seductive glint as she raised a foot out of her loose heels to rub the inner side of his calf. She watched Tommy visibly gulp and his eyes went wide.

After coughing to keep his composure he whispered, "Is that really all you ever think about?"

She feigned a hurt face, "Of course not. I have to think about eating and sleeping sometimes." He smirked at her before glancing down and interlinking their hands that were already touching on the table.

Tommy watched her fingers dance across his knuckles and took a heavy breath before looking up and reclaiming her burning eyes. "Well you might not be thinking much about sleeping tonight."

Santana's eyes widened trying to figure out if he meant what she thought he was implying. He chuckled at her as the waitress arrived with their food. When Tommy started to pick up his fork and knife to cut the chicken breast on his plate, he noticed Santana was still unmoving on the other side of the table.

"Aren't you going to eat? I mean you make me bring you here for the millionth time and you're not even—"

"Are you serious?" Santana knew she didn't have to clarify what she meant after watching a smirk spread from ear to ear across his face.

"Maybe," Tommy answered coyly. He continued to stab pieces of his dinner and brought them to his mouth, keeping his eyes intently on her.

Santana shook her head and picked up her fork, "You're an ass." After placing the first bite of spaghetti into her mouth, she glanced over and smiled at him.

'_Maybe anniversaries don't suck after all.'_

* * *

><p>"I want dessert," Tommy muttered after watching Santana inhaling the last breadstick.<p>

"How you hog? You ate all of your food and the majority of mine." She pointed to her plate and laughed as he signaled the waitress over to their table.

"Hi excuse me can you get me a piece of chocolate cheesecake, and the_ charming _lady over here a strawberry one."

Santana snickered and mumbled under your breath, "Don't lie to the lady, if you want two pieces just order them for yourself."

He sent her a light kick under the table and she yelped in pain. "Oh really? You're kicking me now? See if _you're _getting any tonight." The waitress turned bright red as she penciled down their order and shuffled away quickly.

"Aw you made our server blush." Tommy called after the woman. "It's okay hun! _I'm_ not the one who has to worry about it not happening!"

Before they knew it the waitress was rushing back and placing their desserts in front of them without making eye contact. Tommy dove eagerly into his and Santana watched him disapprovingly before picking up her fork and taking a small bite out of her own.

_Taking the first bite she remembered the first time she ever tasted the cheesecake. When they were younger, Brittany and Santana's parents never ordered them their own desserts but made them share one during their frequent outings to Breadstix. Santana usually begged for the strawberry cheesecake (cheesecake was the favored choice of the adults) but Brittany usually whined until she was allowed to have chocolate ice cream. And as far as Santana was concerned, Brittany would always get what she wanted. _

_One night, after finishing their meals, Maria turned to them and asked what they would like for dessert in her normal fashion. _

_Brittany turned to Santana to ask if they could get ice cream but when she saw the exasperated look on her friend's face she knew she would have to relent for once. Brittany turned back to the older woman and said sweetly, "Can we have the strawberry cheesecake?" _

_Maria looked at her questioningly as Santana's head perked up. "Are you sure? You usually get ice cream."_

_Brittany turned once more to look over at Santana and gave her a smile. "Mhm. Sani likes strawberries."_

_Santana's eyes lit up and she reached under the table to link her pinky with Brittany's and grinned from ear to ear. Maria nodded her approval and turned to order the dessert, while they had a hushed conversation._

"_Why'd you do that Britt? I am okay with the ice cream," Santana whispered. _

_Brittany shook her head lightly, "You're always doing stuff for me. It's my turn." _

"_But you don't like cheesecake…" Santana reasoned. _

_Brittany looked thoughtful for a minute, "Why do they call it cheesecake if there is no cheese on it. It's gross." _

_Santana chuckled, "It's a different type of cheese B." Before Brittany had a chance to argue, the server placed the food down in front of them. She watched Santana's eyes glimmer with excitement for finally getting to eat the dessert she had coveted since the first time she had seen her parents devour it. Brittany chuckled at the hungry glare in her eyes, but Santana ignored her and took the first bite. The sweet flavor danced across her tongue and she moaned loudly in approval. Brittany couldn't help but stare at her clenched lips that were trying to hold onto the taste as long as they could. _

_When Santana finally opened her eyes, she watched the delight on Brittany's face that echoed her own appearance. _

"_Can I have a bite?" Brittany asked her without taking her eyes off of the plump lips still clenched tightly together. _

_Santana couldn't help but blush realizing where her focus was, "I thought it was gross," she teased and Brittany scowled before shutting her eyes and opening her mouth. Her hands started to shake and she shot a glance over at their parents to make sure they weren't being watched before leaning down to scoop a decent sized bite and trailed it over to Brittany's mouth. When the cool metal of the fork met her tongue, Brittany clenched her lips around it and Santana pulled the utensil out slowly not wanting to stab her accidentally._

_She watched Brittany's face scrunch up in disgust of the taste and chuckled lightly forcing the blue eyes wide open to stare at her. "No good?" she asked with a smirk._

_Brittany's gaze was unwavering, "No, I loved it." Santana's brow furrowed and she looked at her like she was crazy._

"_You're a liar,"sShe teased again and Brittany's megawatt smile came on full force. _

"_Am not," Brittany said back sweetly. "I liked it."_

"_Then why did you make a face?" Santana raised an eyebrow that matched her devilish smirk._

"_The…fork was…cold." Brittany stuttered looking around trying to hide her lie. _

"_Right," Santana said before bringing the fork down to get another piece. She brought it up in front of Brittany's still shifting face and urged, "Have another then." _

_Brittany's eyes caught the fork and she nodded to herself almost as if she was promising herself she could do it before leaning down and taking the bite into her mouth. She swallowed thickly before the smile reappeared on her face. _

_Santana couldn't do anything but shake her head. "You're stubborn. Why won't you just admit you don't like it?" _

_Brittany shook her head defiantly, while still maintaining her smile. "I do like it." She paused for another thoughtful glance around the room. "I like it because you like it."_

_Santana's pulse quickened at her admission and she forced herself to tear her eyes away from the shimmering blue irises pouring unabashedly into her own. _

"Hello!" Tommy reached over and snapped his fingers in front of Santana's face. She came back out of her thoughts and looked over to see he had finished his dessert while she had barely touched her own. "Where'd you go babe?"

"I was just thinking…" she said quietly and reached down to grab another bite of her cheesecake.

"About what? Looked pretty important considering you were blank for about ten minutes." He laughed and looked at her with curious eyes.

'_Should I lie?' _Santana thought but then realized they had been nothing but honest to each other since they began dating. _'What was the use?'_ Considering she had only been thinking about Brittany; a harmless memory about her best friend.

"Brittany. The first time I ever had cheesecake was with her." Tommy watched her recount the memory once more and Santana thought she saw a twinge of jealousy in his stare. "When we were little, our parents used to bring us here all the time. It was a tradition I guess."

"You don't do it anymore?" he asked while picking up the bill from the corner of the table. He eyed it over and then looked back up at her while pulling his wallet from his pants.

"No, we sort of stopped once we got to high school. Dumb kid things." She snickered but it felt wrong to belittle the dinners. They used to be the nights she looked forward to the most.

"Yeah well you have to grow up sometime." The words stung Santana as they exited Tommy's mouth. She knew he didn't mean it to be hurtful, but that didn't change the fact that it was.

He stood up and extended a hand down to her. When she looked up into his face she desperately pushed aside the desire to see twinkling blue eyes where instead sat brown smoldering ones.

"Yeah," Santana said and stood following him out of the doors. She shot one last glance to the all-too-familiar table sitting in the back corner. She thought she could see the tiny "B" and "S" dug into the hardwood that were surrounded with a jagged heart.

* * *

><p>Santana pulled back from Tommy's lips to lean her forehead against his, while trying to calm her breathing. "There's no one home. And you have a promise to make good on."<p>

He reclaimed her lips, biting her bottom lip before pulling away. Her mouth followed his and he chuckled hotly into her parted lips. "I don't think I promised anything."

She groaned and reattached their lips. Tommy gently pushed her back against the front door and started to trail kisses across her jaw. Santana continued to persuade him.

"We've been dating forever. I'm not going anywhere. Let's just do this already." He ceased his ministrations to lean back and look her in the eyes, dark with desire and need.

"Okay." He smiled and reached past her to push the door open. Santana contained a leap of victory and took him quickly by the hand and lead him up the stairs. Tommy barely had time to slam the door shut before his arm was being ripped from the socket.

They reached her bedroom door and he pulled her back to pick her up and carry her through the door. Santana rolled her eyes at him, "We aren't married you know."

Tommy shook his head and gave her a serious stare, "Let me do this the way I want okay?"

"Oh, controlling. This night might actually be interesting now." He dropped her on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Santana marveled at the defined muscles and couldn't help reach out and scratch her nails down them. She sat upright on the bed and he stretched his arm behind her to unzip the length of her green dress.

Santana shivered at the feel of his hand on her lower back. She stood up and he slid the material off of her shoulders and it fell to the floor. She felt his eyes rake over her body and felt the familiar shiver of nervousness of being under scrutiny.

Only this time she couldn't grasp the warm, sheltering feeling she had been become so used to.

Tommy placed his hands on her tiny waist and pushed her back onto the bed. Santana reached down and unbuckled his belt before popping the button of his pants. He kicked them off as he climbed onto the bed to hover above her. Once again, Santana grasped for the comforting air she was supposed to be experiencing but came up short.

He leaned down to reclaim her lips after what felt like an eternity and Santana gasped at the sparks she still felt against them. She couldn't understand why it still felt like something was missing while he was making her feel this good.

Trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach as he removed her final garments of clothing and his own, she focused on the now. The feeling right then and there. She ignored the heavy presence he put overtop of her. She ignored the feel of him inside of her, and how much it reminded her of her times with Puck. She ignored the emptiness.

Santana watched his face above her and tried to feel all of those happy feelings she felt at dinner; when he teased her, and they smiled coyly at each other. She wanted all of that back, right then in their most important hour. But it never came. Instead she felt the budding pressure in her body and knew it would be like every other time.

Well _almost_ every time.

Then her thoughts turned to Brittany. _'No, stop thinking about Brittany!_' she internally scolded herself and returned her thoughts to Tommy. _'Sweet Tommy…'_ He was so good to her. And there she was, thinking about her best friend during sex. Santana didn't want to hurt him. She wanted him to know how much she cared about him, because she did. She honestly knew theirs was the most functional relationship she had ever been in. But maybe functional wasn't all that mattered. She craved the passion she should have been feeling. But it wasn't working for her. He wasn't working for her.

As blonde hair pooled onto his face, the manly features were hidden and once again her thoughts turned to Brittany. She knew thinking of the girl meant she was betraying the boy she thought she had loved. For him, she would make this special. _'For him,_' she thought as she wound her hand tightly in blonde locks; blonde hair that wasn't quite as smooth or soft as she wished it would be.

Tommy picked up the pace assuming her tight grip meant she was getting closer. Santana couldn't ignore the awkward and clumsy movements, but pushed them out of her mind. Instead she pictured delicate fingers moving precisely; knowing exactly where she needed them. She let out a moan and Tommy met her lips once more, pushing his large tongue into her mouth. She imagined a smaller one taking control and let her own mouth fall lazy. Her empty hand trailed down Tommy's back and ignored the rougher skin, instead feeling the delicate kind she had anticipated. She felt the undefined muscles shudder under her nails.

Santana let out another moan as the pressure grew even heavier. She felt his moves get even more uncoordinated and sensed it might be over a lot sooner than she expected. She couldn't help but internally grimace at the irony that she was finally getting what she thought she needed, and it turned out it was the furthest thing from what she wanted. She shut her eyes and pulled more thoughts of Brittany into her mind. She remembered the intimate feeling of Brittany beneath her that first night. She remembered the blue eyes, usually calm and collected, wildly shifting around the room. She remembered the shuttering feeling of Brittany's first touch on her body, and it mirrored the movement Tommy had made in that moment, reaching a hand down between their bodies. Almost as if he was reading her mind, _'Oh god, if he could read my mind'_, he placed light circles with a finger much rougher than the one she was recalling.

The motions sent her far over the edge and she felt her stomach clench. At the last moment before she fell, a tiny voice said "I love you," from the back of her mind and she couldn't help the breathy whisper that escaped from her lips.

"Britt."

The name was airy and silent and she prayed Tommy hadn't heard her. She knew he did when he pulled back and looked at her quietly. His eyes found hers and mercilessly tried to pull meaning she knew she didn't have.

After what felt like hours, he rolled over and fell onto his back. Santana reached down and pulled up a sheet to cover her body, feeling more vulnerable in that movement than she had in her entire life. She wanted him to yell. Or question her. Or cry. The silence was unbearably heavy and it crushed her chest.

"What…" he started out of nowhere. A long pause and he didn't turn to look at her. Santana's eyes laid heavy into the side of his head, begging him to continue, a plea that went unseen. "Did you?"

"I-I…Tommy, I…" She couldn't find the words. Santana didn't want to hurt him. But calling out _her _name certainly didn't protect him.

She hated herself.

"You said…Britt." Finally he turned to look at her. "Brittany?" he asked. It seemed they were both speechless.

"Yeah." The single syllable seemed like the hardest one she ever had to force from her lips.

Another moment of silence and Tommy seemed to gain a little more composure, "Were you thinking about her…"

Again she forced herself to push out that horrible confirmation, "Yeah." It didn't even sound like a word to her anymore.

"Can I ask you why?" he whispered and Santana could tell he was hurt. His voice broke on the last word and it pierced her heart; tears welled up instantly.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She shook her head and tears started to fall from the corner of her eye.

Tommy sighed and turned to sit upright on the bed with his back to her. "I do." The certainty in his tone shocked her and she sat up with her back against the headboard.

"What do you mean?" Santana asked curiously.

He continued on as if she wasn't even there, "It makes so much sense actually."

"What makes sense?" Santana's voice bordered on the edge of sadness and hostility. As bad as she felt for him, she didn't like him ignoring her.

Tommy reached down and grabbed his boxers and pants. He stood and slid them on. Santana turned away from the sight of his naked body; looking at him felt like a betrayal. When he neared the door and grabbed his shirt, he finally turned back to her and walked slowly over to the bed. He sat down on the edge.

"You really don't know yet?" He watched her consider the question before laughing innocently. She knew he wasn't trying to mock her. "I told you I loved you, during sex, and you said your best friend's name." He raised his eyebrows trying to urge her to figure it out. When Santana's confused stare didn't change he stood again, "You'll figure it out."

Santana watched him walk towards the door. "Wait, where are you going?"

He didn't turn back to her, "I love you. I do. But I have to go."

"I don't understand," she said quietly from across the room.

"You will," Tommy said firmly before walking out of the house and leaving her alone in her empty room.

* * *

><p>Anna walked slowly down the stairs and moved towards the kitchen. She had been fast asleep when a commotion in the kitchen woke her from her sleep. Anthony had been gone for a weekend fishing trip and as much as it terrified her to confront a possible intruder, she knew she had to protect her daughters.<p>

Baseball bat in hand, she walked slowly before crossing quietly over the dark threshold of the room. A light sniffling came from the table at the far edge of the room and it struck her as odd that it sounded like someone crying. Before giving away her location, she quickly flipped on the light switch. When she turned back, she saw a distraught Santana curled up in a kitchen chair, staring at her with shock and puffy, red eyes. The baseball bat dropped softly to the carpet outside the doorway and she walked swiftly over to wrap the girl up in her arms.

"Aw honey what's going on? Are you okay? Are your parents okay?" Anna rapid fired questions, immediately fearing the worst had become of her best friends.

"They're f-fine," Santana blubbered through heavy sobs, "At l-least I g-guess they are. Wherever t-they are." She buried her face back into Anna's robe and breathlessly cried. Anna feared she was going to pass out, from the clear lack of oxygen she was receiving through her tears.

"What happened then, hun?" she questioned, rubbing soothing circles into Santana's shoulder blades. She was trying to desperately to calm her down and figured maybe getting her to talk about it would help.

"Can we n-not talk a-about it," Santana begged through her muffled cries.

"Of course, we don't have to if you don't want." She ran her fingers through dark-brown hair and pulled her in closer. "What can I do to help?"

Santana fought her urge to steel herself like she would with even her own parents. Anna had always been there for her, and she knew the woman was a terrific mother. Anyone would have to be, to raise a daughter as wonderful and good as Brittany was. "Would you mind just holding me for a minute?"

The request sounded odd in both of their ears but Anna would not deny Santana anything she asked. She and Maria had practically raised the girls together and she knew it was a service to her oldest friend to be there for her daughter. She knew Maria would return the favor if Brittany ever needed it.

A few minutes passed and Anna continued to run comforting fingers through Santana's hair. Her breathing had calmed significantly and at last she pulled her face from the material Anna was wearing.

"Okay, I think I'm okay now," she whispered, hearing how hoarse her voice had become after the last few hours of crying. She had been crying since Tommy left her alone.

"Still not want to talk?" Anna asked with a kind smile. She knew Santana well and expected the shaking head she received in response. "Didn't hurt to ask."

"Thanks," Santana replied genuinely.

"I do have a question though," Santana raised her eyebrows, "How did you get in here?"

Santana laughed softly and slid her hand across the table and then back. When she removed her hand, Anna recognized the key that normally sat under the flower pot on the back porch. "I've known where that was since I was eight."

Anna chuckled and at the same time they both muttered, "Brittany."

Santana's smile darkened at their mutual utterance of her name. Thoughts of the night rushed back and she fought the tears threatening to take residence in her eyes again.

Anna noticed the shift, "Are you upset about Brittany?"

"I—" Santana started but was cut off by a hand waving.

"Sorry, I'm prying. You don't have to tell me."

"No it's okay. It's not directly about her but…sort of." Santana stared down into the table and started to pick at the rough wood. Anna reached over and smacked her hand lightly.

"You and Brittany both are destroying this table. If you two would stop being so moody, I wouldn't have to buy a new table." Santana smirked up at her but then realized her words.

"Wait what's wrong with Brittany? Is she okay?" Santana's eyes flickered with worry.

Anna smiled at the obvious concern in Santana's behavior. It made her happy to know Brittany had such a good friend. "I don't think she'd like it if I told you about her problems. That's probably breaking some kind of mom code."

Santana's head dropped again and she started to move her hand back towards the table. When she felt a heated glare into her head, she moved it back under the table and looked back up. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"A Lopez apology. I'm shocked." Santana looked at her oddly. "You think you're so unique but your mom was doing that whole…" she paused trying to find an appropriate word, but when none came she relented and used a word that she knew Santana would appreciate more anyway, "**bitch** thing way before you were born. I think I might have gotten two of them from her in our whole lives."

Santana smiled and tilted her head to the side before dropping it down on her fist, "What was she like when you guys were younger?"

"Like you. Perpetually angry, rude, forceful," Santana let her mouth drop at all the more-or-less insults Anna was describing her with but kept quiet. When Anna's voice switched to a more tender tone, she looked past Santana thoughtfully, "But protective. She had a lot of heart. And was incredibly sweet to the people she let in."

"People like you," Santana finished for her knowing the two considered themselves best friends from birth.

Anna smiled and returned her focus to Santana. "Yes, like me. We were inseparable, like you and Brittany. You're mom and I, we were the ultimate pair." She paused and a glimmer passed through her eyes that Santana had only seen on one other occasion. One she found in a similar pair of blue orbs.

Santana dismissed the idea and asked another question that had been burning through her mind. "When did she meet my dad?"

Santana watched the older woman's face drop slightly, "In high school. Our senior year, he transferred in. All of the girls wanted him, all except her and me." Santana snickered at the idea of her father being a ladies' man. "But he wanted her. And after a few months of romantic gestures she agreed to go out with him." Anna laughed and Santana rose to the edge of her seat wanting to know the next part of the story. "She smacked him on their first date; for taking a piece of her steak."

Santana recalled one of her first dates with Matt where he insisted on tasting her chicken so much that he reached his fork across the table. The second the metal drove into the meat, her fork stabbed his hand. She laughed at how truly similar she and her mom must have been.

"I knew I loved her for some reason," Santana said with a chuckle.

Anna paused and then let out a small laugh, "Yeah. She is definitely a trip." Santana couldn't help but notice the bitter edge to her sweet words.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked softly.

Anna sighed and put a visibly forced smile on her face, "Hey, you're the kid. I ask if you're okay." She winked at Santana, "I'm fine hun." She turned around to look at the clock and it read _3:34_. "Wow it is late. And we need our beauty sleep."

Santana laughed and stood up from her seat to give the woman a large hug. She felt so comfortable in the arms of this woman and knew it had to be because of how similar she was to Brittany.

"It'll be okay, Santana. Whatever is going on between you and Brittany. She loves you. And I know how much you love her." She paused heavily. "Best friends always work things out."

"Thanks Anna. Do you mind if I stay over?" she asked before pulling away and looking into Anna's mocking eyes.

"You really think I would make you go home after you have been sitting in my kitchen crying for god knows how long? Just because you and your mother are the 'sweet' ones doesn't mean me and Brittany are cruel." She teased her and nodded her head, "Of course you can stay. Go on up. I'm going to get myself a glass of water and then go back to bed."

"Good night," Santana said and walked out of the kitchen towards the staircase.

Anna shuffled around the kitchen to grab a cup from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap before sitting on the edge of the table. She downed half the glass in one gulp and her eyes flitted to the cabinet at the far end of the room. After finishing her drink she walked over and rifled through the messy contents of the drawer.

She found an old recipe book that she hardly used. Torn pages and frayed edges gave it the appearance of being used daily, but in reality Anna hadn't touched it in years. She opened it and ran her fingers over the cursive print that pushed flooded memories of letters and small notes into her brain. Her fingers trailed across the inside of the front cover to feel for the finite divide. She felt the edge of the picture hidden behind it and pulled it out, dropping the book to the counter.

The two women's backs were to the camera as they faced each other in front of the backdrop of New York City's skyline. Anna saw her own hand tangled in the dark brown locks of the other woman and remembered the feel of it almost as if she was reliving it.

She partly wondered if it was because of how similar Santana's hair had just felt running through her fingers a few minutes before.

* * *

><p>Santana crept slowly into Brittany's bedroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping girl. She could hear the light snores from the other side of the room and smiled at the cute noises. When she got closer to the bed she stopped at the edge to look down at the sight before her.<p>

Brittany was sprawled across the left side of the bed clad in a grey tank top and from what Santana could see, a pair of her red WMHS boy shorts. She thought Brittany looked beautiful with messed up hair that suggested she had been sleeping for hours before. Santana almost didn't want to disturb her, content with watching her sleep for the rest of the night. But when Brittany shifted on the bed, she decided it would be creepy for her to wake up to her leering stare.

She moved around to the right edge of the bed and pulled back the covers just enough so that she could climb in beside her. Santana replaced the blankets and even pulled up Brittany's to keep her warm. Her hand moved up to run light fingers through blonde hair that fell in all different directions, and she did her best to smooth it out. Her hand slipped once, grazing Brittany' face with enough pressure to wake her. The blue eyes flicked open and Santana was washed away by the comforting gaze, baffled with the effect, given that Brittany was most likely not one hundred percent conscious at that point.

"San?" a tiny voice whispered across the bed as Brittany turned her body to wrap an arm around Santana's body.

"Yeah, B," Santana said softly and resumed running her fingers through her hair.

"What's going on?" Brittany asked, her voice gaining a little more volume with concern.

When Santana didn't answer she asked again, "Are you okay?"

Still, Santana didn't answer her but dropped her hand from her hair and sliding it down to wrap with Brittany free hand. She traced her fingertips across her palm.

"Santana. What's wrong?" Brittany pleaded.

Santana sighed heavily, "Can you please stop talking?" The tone wasn't cruel but Brittany understood its persistence.

They both stayed quiet for a few minutes. Neither one wanted to sleep. Brittany knew Santana needed her in that moment, and Santana knew Brittany would understand. The air in the room was cool, and since Santana hadn't asked her to stay away, Brittany moved closer so their knees squished together. Their shins collided and Brittany tried to push her warmth into Santana's body. Santana only lay quietly still, examining the contours of Brittany's face.

Brittany sensed the need for quiet had passed and whispered quietly, "I missed you, S."

Santana's face twitched with distress and she gripped Brittany's hand tightly. "Yeah, me too, B."

Santana let herself relax into the pillow, and was asleep within a few short minutes. Brittany watched her face loosen up but remarked at how the grip on her hand didn't budge an inch. Sensing the exhaustion in her body, Brittany knew she could move Santana without waking her and pulled her over, wrapping her arms around the girl's figure tightly.

Brittany leaned down to place one gentle kiss to Santana's lips and then pulled back and shut her eyes.

"Goodnight San."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I missed my flashbacks so I wrote one :) Also that stuff with Brittany and Santana's moms, yeah that wasn't intentional. It just happened while I was writing. And I got flooded with ideas. **

**Read & Review ! :D I love hearing what you guys have to think! **

**Also happy belated Thanksgiving to anybody who celebrates it! **


	19. let's make a change

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Rated: T**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: Just wanted to get us started in season 2. Wanted to update so I thought I'd set some stuff up. Hope you like it :D (check it our iamirreplazable I didn't break my computer! #winning)  
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**Frogfeather-I'm okay with that :) As long as you're still reading the Brittana, skip over all the Faberry you'd like. You don't have to read anything you don't want to :) that actually makes me happy to know that you'll keep reading even though you don't care for the faberry parts lol  
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**lizbean-well thank you! I'm glad you still like it after your chapter 4 review :D**

**AnjyBoBanjy-I definitely will! Like I said it wasn't meant to happen but I was just like, alright lets go with this :)**

**gleeknumber1-haha I won't let stuff get creepy. I promise:) thanks!**

**iamirreplazable-Yup! Let's hope they learn from their mistakes;)**

**Breakdown6-Aww I missed your reviews :D your reviews always bring a smile to my face! when i wrote that stuff i was like omg this is so terrible for her to be like using brittany to get off, only cause she feels bad, but i didn't want her to be overly-evil either. it was with a good intention! omfg "apple doesn't fall far from the gay tree" I died when I read that. I actually told my friend that and she died too lol I appreciate them I really do, ill keep the updates coming, if you keep the long reviews !  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"I just don't see why you want back on the Cheerio's so bad Q," Santana said as they walked through the front door on the first morning back to school. Brittany had dashed away from Santana's car earlier to meet up with Kurt and the two were left to enter the building together.<p>

Quinn glanced down at her red t-shirt and black sweatpants before returning her stare to Santana. "I spent all of my summer getting my body back in shape and I'm claiming my position as head cheerleader again. Last year was a mess, that was entirely my own fault, and I'm getting it all back."

In reality, Quinn did spend the majority of the summer months relentlessly dieting and working out to return her body to its former state. _'Just because I'm in glee, doesn't mean I have to be a total loser.'_

"Sure you're not working on that _bod_ to impress anybody special?" Santana quipped with a knowing stare that spread a large uneasiness through Quinn's body.

She eyed Santana suspiciously, "O-Of course not. Who would I have to impress?"

"It's just a thought." Santana smirked as they approached Brittany and Kurt who were wildly discussing something at their lockers.

"No-no-no Kurt, you have to go after him. He sounds totally lady-fabulous like you!" Brittany bounced excitedly on her feet.

Kurt sighed with a tiny chuckle and shot a brief glance to Santana, "From anyone else but you that is offensive."

Quinn snorted, "Only because it's true." Santana and Kurt both gave her heated glares.

"Not cool, Fabray," Santana muttered before moving over to open her locker.

"Thanks for proving my point Quinn," Kurt snapped before his attention was pulled back to Brittany who clearly had ignored the negative interaction between them.

"Listen, this Dane guy sounds awesome. You have to go back to Dalton and get his number." Her bright eyes lit up with another idea. "Or I'll go get it. I could totally play matchmaker." Santana smiled brightly at her ramblings.

"What are you two even talking about?" she asked but was interrupted by Quinn who had started to back away from the group.

"I'm gonna go talk to Coach Sylvester. See if I can tryout. That way I won't have to be a total social pariah." Her hazel eyes drifted to Kurt with the last word and she finally turned her back and headed off towards the gym.

Kurt shook his head angrily, "What is her problem? I thought we were fine after Regional's last year?"

Santana and Brittany shrugged their shoulders but Santana also raised her eyebrows, indicating she wanted an answer to her previous question.

"Right," Kurt started, "well my parents were looking into letting me go to another school after I had that run in with Karofsky this summer."

_Santana recalled the day Brittany had brought Kurt over to her house, crying and hysterical about being attacked at the Lima Bean. Kurt and Brittany were exiting the building when Karofsky pulled up in his battered truck quickly killing the engine so that he could catch the tiny boy before he had a chance to escape._

"_Well if it isn't Homo-Hummel." Brittany tried to move defensively in front of Kurt but was pushed aside easily by Karofsky's large hand. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see you around."_

_Kurt visibly trembled in place but tried to steel his voice, "You can't dictate where I can and cannot go David."_

"_We'll see about that." Karofsky landed a particularly heavy push to Kurt's chest that sent him back against the glass window in front of the coffee shop. With a loud thud he was sent sprawling to the ground. Just as Dave made a move to approach the cowering figure of Kurt's jumbled limbs, Brittany reappeared with a few of the bigger employees from inside, who went at Karofsky to keep him away. Brittany helped Kurt to his feet and they ran to Brittany's car, parked a few spaces away from where the scuffle had taken place. _

_Brittany rushed them to Santana's house immediately, unsure of where to go at first. But her instincts told her to take Kurt to the place where she felt most safe, and that was definitely with Santana. After a few hours of borderline comforting conversations and cuddling, the two girls drove Kurt home. And when he was safe in his house, Brittany let her strong facade down for the first time, and sobbed heartily into Santana's arms over the console of the car._

"And?" Santana asked trying to push the awful images out of her head.

"He met a guy there, Dane, who sings with their glee club." She turned to Kurt, "The Swallowers right?"

Santana stifled a laugh and watched Kurt's face scrunch up, "No Britt, his name is Blaine. And it's the _Warblers." _

Santana raised her eyebrows, "Does he play for your team?"

Kurt's eyes beamed excitedly, "Yes he does." He sighed, "But I don't know if he's interested."

"Well you have to go figure it out idiot," Santana said sweetly as she shut her locker.

"I don't have the time to go and see him," Kurt explained, even though all three of them knew it was a lame excuse.

Brittany wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulder, "Make the time. He'd be stupid to not like you. You're like the prettiest guy I've ever met."

Santana laughed, "I don't think you're supposed to say pretty B." Brittany looked at her questioningly. "Handsome, maybe."

"Okay, okay. As much as I love the compliments," he paused to watch Santana roll her eyes and Brittany grin, "We have to get to class." He started to walk away before swirling around to Brittany, "Mall after school right?"

"Only if you go see Blaine first," she countered and he nodded at her.

"It's a date," Kurt said before glancing to watch the barely-there look of jealousy on Santana's face. The bell rang and everyone in the hallway quickly dispersed. _'Well that was too easy,' _he thought before marching off to French class.

Brittany turned back to Santana who smiled at her and raised a pinky in front of her face. The motion lit up her face and gave her eyes a twinkling glint that flipped Santana's insides. Brittany reached down and linked their pinkies.

"So I had a thought…" Brittany started in a very playful tone; one Santana rarely heard used in school. It was usually reserved for…

Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat as she felt Brittany release their pinkies and trail her fingers lightly up the inner side of her forearm. "Ye-Yeah?" she stumbled and realized her voice came out in a tiny whisper.

"There's no real reason for us to go to the first class of the day right?" Her hand twisted around to the outside of Santana's upper arm and gently massaged the muscles that twitched under her touch. "I mean it's just going to be boring stuff." Brittany crept closer and leaned in to ghost her lips over the girl's ear, "Names," her lips closed around Santana's earlobe and then released, "icebreakers," her other hand reached up to wrap around her neck, "stuff like that."

Santana glanced around the hallway to make sure it was clear before cupping Brittany's face and claiming her lips in a hard kiss. She pushed her back against the lockers and a loud bang spread a smile to her lips as they moved effortlessly against Brittany's eager mouth. Her waist was quickly encircled by Brittany's tight grip and they flipped positions creating another loud bang.

"Britt." Santana pulled back to calm them down and fought against Brittany's lips, which kept trying to find her own again. "Wait."

Brittany sighed and pulled back, "Yes?" _'What now? I just want to get my sweet lady kisses on.'_

She watched the obvious disappointment stretch across Brittany's frown and smiled to reassure her.

"I was just gonna say we should take this to somewhere a little more private."

* * *

><p><em>Rachel pulled her car up in front of the towering household that would more easily be described as a mansion and shut off the engine. She looked out eyeing the front of the house and her stomach twisted in knots, unsure of what awaited her on the other side of that large door. She dropped her head down to rest her forehead against the steering wheel. <em>_**'You can do this. You're Rachel Berry. She just wants to talk,' **__the mantra scrolled through her brain and she barely noticed a tapping at her window. _

_When she turned she saw a sweat-drenched Quinn standing outside her window, wearing only a pink sports bra and black running shorts. Much to her disbelief, the anxiety she had just been feeling was amplified tenfold. Quinn stared at her oddly and knocked again for effect. This time she had a smirk that showed she was playfully mocking Rachel's strange behavior. _

_When Rachel still didn't make a move to get out of her car she finally spoke up, "Are you planning on sitting in your car the whole time? Cause that may make this a little harder." _

_Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but she still couldn't find words. And she was Rachel __**Freakin**__ Berry. Quinn shook her head but smiled genuinely. _

"_Alright then," she moved away from the car and just as Rachel started to protest, her passenger door opened and lowered herself in and shut the door, "I guess we can talk in here." Quinn looked around to study the interior of Rachel's car and squinted her eyes as she took in a deep breath. "What is that smell?" _

_Finally, Rachel found a few words, "Excuse me?" _

"_She speaks! I was starting to get worried there, Rachel Berry isn't one to be speechless." Rachel couldn't help but glare at her. "Calm down. I was asking what that scent was because it smells lovely." _

_Rachel couldn't help but blush at the compliment, even if it was for her car. She never imagined Quinn to say anything was 'lovely' in reference to her. "Honeysuckle. It's the only car freshener I use. And after the countless times I've used it, the car permanently smells like it." _

"_That's a pretty sweet deal actually," Quinn remarked, "Now you never have to buy another one."_

"_Yes, that is a bonus." A little bit of Rachel's nervousness returned knowing their conversation would eventually turn to the reason Quinn had called her over. Her eyes returned to check out her outfit and Quinn caught her looking. She blushed._

"_I went out for a run. After you informed me you had a singing lesson I figured I might as well do something productive while I waited," she answered the girl's questioning stare._

"_You seem to run a lot," Rachel stated and it wasn't a question._

_Quinn's eyebrow quirked up, "What do you mean?"_

"_Every time I've talked to you this summer you've either just gotten home from a run, or you ended the conversation because you wanted to go for one. It just seems to me that you exercise a lot."_

"_Says the person who gets up at 6:30 in the morning to run on the elliptical…is it run?" she pondered aloud and Rachel chuckled softly._

"_Yes it is. And I use my exercise to deal with my stress." _

"_Well I guess you could say I do the same. But it's more about preventing future stress," Quinn retorted and gazed down into the fabric of the seat beneath her. Her fingers rose to dig at the material._

_Rachel watched this unconscious action and furrowed her eyebrows, "I don't understand."_

"_I plan on getting back on the Cheerio's when school starts." _

"_How does that help with stress?" Rachel questioned, still watching her tug lightly on the loose strings._

_Quinn's voice wavered as she spoke, "Stress of being on the outside looking in." She paused. "Of being a nobody."_

_Racherl moved her hand over to cover Quinn's on the seat ceasing her incessant motions against the offending fabric, "You'll never be a nobody Quinn." _

_Quinn looked at the warm chocolate eyes staring at her with total sincerity, "Thanks, Rach."_

_Rachel smiled at the shortened version of her name, knowing she had gotten through at least a little bit. Garnering some confidence, she was finally ready to figure out what had Quinn Fabray calling her asking to talk in person, "So, why am I here?"_

_Quinn chuckled at her choice of words, "It's not like I forced you…"_

"_No-no that's not—that's not what I was implying Quinn." Her breaths came out heavier and all of her confidence was shattered once again, but that was usually how Quinn made her feel. She would give Rachel a sense of comfort and control, only to rip it out from under her a second later. "I just am curious of why you wanted to meet." Her mind drifted back to that visit from Santana a few weeks prior, and knew that if it wasn't for that night, she wouldn't have ever considered driving over to meet her._

"_Well," Quinn started and once again the wavering to her voice returned, "I wanted to talk to you about that conversation we had a couple months ago." She tried to hide the guilt in her voice but it unwillingly slipped out. _

"_Which conversation?" Rachel inquired awkwardly. They had a few conversations over the summer, some more innocent than others but there had been a few heated arguments. She didn't really want to revisit them._

"_The first one," Quinn said simply hoping to not have to go into more details than that. She planned on addressing one particular issue and not bringing up all of the more negative points of that evening. _

"_Oh," the realization dawned on Rachel and she remembered the argument over Finn they had at the start of the summer. They hadn't mentioned it since then and she hoped it would remain that way. _

"_Yeah," Quinn said nervously. "I just, I said something that night and I haven't felt right about it."_

"_Can you be a little more specific?" Rachel asked shyly. _

"_The last thing I said to you actually. When I texted you and," her voice dropped off but with an assertive nod of her head that forced herself to continue she added, "and I told you I didn't think we could be friends."_

_Rachel's stomach dropped and she grasped onto the steering wheel harder. That had been one part of their conversation that night she had chosen to forget and hearing Quinn bring it back up was causing a lot of the feelings of betrayal she had felt that night rush back into her system. "Oh…that."_

_Quinn watched the stress on Rachel's twisted expression and the guilt weighed down heavily on her chest. She reached across the console to reclaim the hand that Rachel had previously retracted. The contact was probably not a smart choice, to keep her composure, but it felt necessary as she continued, "I didn't mean it." _

_Rachel tried to fight her inner scoff but the disbelief was evident on her face and it forced Quinn to drop her eyes away. _

"_I-I was half asleep, Rach." She gripped Rachel's hand a little tighter which cause Rachel to shift uncomfortably in her seat; a motion that turned Quinn's confidence into apprehension and she started to regret bringing it up. But with one sobering thought of __'No, I'm fixing this,'__ she continued, "I want to be friends. I want to work through this."_

_She let the words settle into the piercing silence and tried to understand what was happening in Rachel's head but the girl's expression was unreadable. It killed her to not know what she was thinking. _

_Rachel spoke quietly, only loud enough to break the silence, "You said it, it means something…"_

_Quinn sighed, "You're right it does mean something. It means it's going to be hard." Rachel's head lifted and she stared at the hazel eyes that were trying to pour their sincerity into her soul. But everything in her screamed to take Quinn's words cautiously. "But I think it's worth it Rachel. We were best friends at some point. I want that back. I want to do this."_

_Rachel's expression grew blank and she didn't understand the words spilling from Quinn's mouth. The only thing she heard was "This." It took her a minute to realize that she had actually said it out loud._

"_What?" Quinn asked. Her eyes scanned Rachel's face and came up empty. _

_Rachel cleared her throat, "This?" _

_Realization dawned on Quinn of what she was asking and with a firm nod she answered, "Yes, this."_

_A long pause separated the two and Quinn continued, "Being friends." _

_Rachel's heart sank a little when she realized what Quinn was suggesting. Part of her wished that Santana had been right but then again, there '__this'__ was. Quinn wanted to be friends again. The idea was reignited in her chest and she didn't try to fight the smile that slowly formed on her face. _

_Quinn watched the myriad of emotions Rachel had subjected in a few tiny moments but when Rachel brunette settled with a smile, she let her own grace her face. "So what do you say?"_

_Rachel turned to her and looked deep into the green eyes waiting patiently for her answer. _

"_Okay," she agreed simply._

As Rachel Berry walked down the halls of McKinley for the first day of school with Finn trailing next to her like a devoted puppy, she couldn't help but feel restless at the fact that she hadn't seen Quinn yet.

"Rach," the voice didn't sound nearly as light as she wished but she turned to acknowledge her boyfriend talking to her, "Who are you looking for? You've looked at every person that's walked passed us."

Rachel didn't notice she was doing it, but now that he had called her out, she returned her attention to the guy walking solidly next to her, "I was looking for Quinn."

He reached up a hand and ran it through his hair, "It's still weird to think about you two being friends."

Rachel smiled, "Yeah, I think so too sometimes."

* * *

><p>Brittany grabbed a large handful of clothes and rushed into Santana's adjoining bathroom. Kurt and Santana lay back against the headboard of her bed and chatted animatedly about his trip back to Dalton.<p>

"So they sang a Katy Perry song, and his vocals were to die for." Kurt dramatically waved his hand in the air and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Why does everyone swoon at random Katy Perry songs? I had Britt crying after she heard me belting 'Not like the Movies' in the shower one afternoon." She silently recounted how a certain blonde joined her in that shower only a few minutes later. A smirk spread across her face but Kurt was too excited to notice it.

"That's not the point. He was staring at me the _whole_ time. It was for me," Kurt babbled on and Brittany opened the door to the bathroom abruptly. She walked up to the bed in a bright blue party dress with frills on the back that Santana only saw when she twirled to give a 360 view.

"What do you think?" Brittany asked with a smile on her face. "Kurt picked it out."

Santana smiled and gave her thumbs up, "I love it. I'm probably gonna borrow it."

"That's fine. As long as you give me something in return." Brittany winked at Santana, who blushed furiously. Kurt turned to look ather and smirked at the physical response to Brittany's words. "God S, I was talking about clothes? Where did your mind go?" Her smirk widened and she sauntered off back into the bathroom.

Santana took a deep breath and her eyes returned to Kurt, "That girl is gonna kill me one day."

"But something tells me you would die a happy woman." Kurt teased. Santana's face turned defensive.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He opened his mouth to protest but she didn't give him a chance to respond, "So did you get his number or not?"

Kurt pulled his phone from his pants and tapped the screen a few times before twisting it to show Santana the screen full of Blaine's phone digits.

"Score!" She raised her fist and Kurt promptly bumped it with his own. Her face turned serious, "I'm happy for you Kurt. You deserve this. Especially after all that crap with Karofsky."

Kurt's face glowed, "Thank you Santana. That means a lot, especially coming from you."

Santana scoffed, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just nice to hear nice things from you for a change." Kurt knew he was testing their limits but knew Santana had calmed down a lot since they had met. They had a silent understanding that teasing was essential to their friendship, or they would jump down each other's throats.

"Whatever, I try to be sweet and you throw it in my face. No me gusta." Kurt smiled in response as Brittany exited the bathroom once again wearing a maroon tank top and a black mini skirt with high black boots.

"What is S being sweet about?" she asked as Santana stood and grabbed a hold of her hand to twirl her. She had to resist letting her gaze settle on Brittany's ass when she moved behind her.

"Nothing," she muttered and used Brittany's body to hide her obvious leering, "I'm never sweet about _anything_." The sarcasm in her voice made Brittany smile and whip around to face her. Brittany's face was hidden by her back and Santana's from Brittany being right in front of her.

She was grateful for her short stature when she mouthed silently to Brittany, 'You look hot!'

Brittany smirked in response and raised her eyebrows quickly once. She mouthed a quiet 'Thanks.'

Kurt seemed to sense the private conversation going on in front of him and stood up from his place on the bed. "Well I'm going to head home. Don't want to miss on Carole's wonderful home cooking." The disgust on his face betrayed his words and both girls turned to smile and wave goodbye.

"Thanks for helping me shop Kurt!" Brittany thanked him excitedly.

Kurt raised his hand in protest, "As if you needed my help Britt. You're amazing."

Brittany smiled and Santana said sweetly, "Bye!"

When he finally left them alone, Santana turned back to Brittany and wrapped her hands tightly around her waist, "He's right you know?"

"About overalls making a comeback? Because I can totally rock that look." She smiled brightly.

"No, well yeah you can, but no, about you being amazing." Santana leaned in a planted a kiss to Brittany's right cheek.

"That was cheesy," Brittany said and nuzzled into her neck.

"Sorry," Santana said softly.

Brittany placed a few light kisses to her neck and then bit down on her shoulder for good measure. "I like cheesy."

Santana pulled back and gave a quick kiss to Brittany's lips. "As much as I like your new clothes, I have a strong feeling I'm going to like you better out of them."

Brittany chuckled and winked at her, "Let's find out."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A little shorter than the last few chapters but I really just wanted to get something up so it could help transition the next few chapters. **

**As always thanks for reading! Reviews are always nice :D**


	20. here we go again

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**Brittana pairing. Is there seriously anything else?**

**A/N: This is the fixed chapter 20. I'm really sorry about that last one. Thanks for all your good reviews but there was a huge inconsistency in that chapter that needed to be fixed. I'll take down that Author's Note in a few days, just so everyone knows that there is stuff changed in it. You don't necessarily have to reread this, but there is changed dialogue and descriptions in the Breadstix conversation btwn Klaine & Brittana. For anyone who is seeing this for the first time, disregard all of that ^ I just made an oopsies lol but here ya go, the fixed chapter. Thanks again to laura sedai for the catch, cause obviously even after proof-reading twice, it's still hard to be subjective.**

**Thanks for all the reviews I already got for this chapter! Love em' and keep em' coming :D  
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**Read & Review if you'd like :D  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>The choir room buzzed with excitement as Mr. Schuester wrote across the tiny white board in giant letters, 'DUETS.'<p>

"Alright, so we've tackled ballads and since I paired you up last time, I decided this week I would allow you to pick your own partners." A few of the students cheered loudly before he continued, "The assignment is simple, pick a song and sing it to your partner conveying whatever emotion you want to say to them."

"So what's the point?" Finn asked blatantly from his seat in the front perched next to Rachel who had already started to meticulously scribble song ideas onto a piece of paper. "I mean, don't we usually have some kind of lesson in our glee assignments."

"You're right, but this week it's not about the lesson. Instead, to gear up for sectionals I figured we could have ourselves a little in-house competition." The teacher's eyes sparkled with an untold surprise. "I'll have you vote amongst yourselves and the winner will be rewarded with a free trip to Breadstix."

Santana dropped her attention from her nail file and rose slightly out of her seat. "Did you say Breadstix?" she yelled from the back row of seats.

Mr. Schuester shook his head disapprovingly, "Did you not hear anything I just said?"

"No, not really," Santana admitted shamelessly while shrugging her shoulders.

He sighed and repeated the last part of his explanation, "If you and your partner win, I will provide a free voucher for a dinner to Breadstix."

"Finally, an assignment from the club that I actually care about." Brittany turned to smile at the her, but still shook her head a little.

The attention was returned back to Mr. Schuester who still looked like he was holding in another secret, "But that's not all." Everyone dropped their side conversation to look at him, "I'm using this lesson to welcome a new member to the glee club. I'm hoping whoever he is paired with will be sure to make him feel at home." He stepped back and held out an arm towards the doorway of the choir room, "Without further ado, I'd like to welcome our newest member Sam Evans!"

Applause sounded as an athletic blonde boy jogged in through the open door and came to a halt standing next to Mr. Schuester. He waved a little and started to babble a cheesy introduction that earned him an eye roll from Santana.

She turned to look at Brittany and said mockingly, "Oh, wow, he has no game." They shared a silent giggle as attention returned back to the front of the room and a few of the other members welcomed him.

Xx

Rachel watched the new boy with trepidation; from what Finn had told her, he had a decent singing voice and she feared he might be a threat to her snagging a win for the competition. She watched Mike and Tina surround Sam and scoffed at how openly they welcomed the new kid, considering they often still treated her standoffishly.

When she glanced up to really take a look at his face, she noticed for the first time that since he had entered the room he had his eyes trained on something a little behind her. Turning around to see what had his eyes transfixed, she saw Quinn staring happily at her. While she found the attention Quinn was giving her a little unsettling, Rachel felt even more sick at realizing Sam had been leering at the hazel-eyed beauty since he came through the door. Something in his eyes looked somehow innocent and predatory at the same time and it put her nerves on edge. This was a feeling she felt whenever Rachel caught Finn looking at other girls. '_Jealousy_,' she thought anxiously watching his unmoving gaze. She chanced a look back at Quinn to see if she had been returning his stare but was met only with eyes focused solely on herself.

Something told her to keep Sam away from Quinn, and knowing that Puck was unavailable, he would surely be her choice for a duet partner. Part of her wanted to claim Quinn as her own partner, but couldn't ignore the fight it would inevitably cause between her and Finn. Instead she turned to her only other option.

"Kurt," she whispered behind her trying to pull his attention away from Mercedes, "Kurt!"

He turned away and leaned down to answer Rachel, "Rachel Berry what can I do for you?"

"I need a favor. Undoubtedly Finn and I will be winning this competition," Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes, "but I thought that it might be a good idea for Sam to pair with the _second _most talented member of the club." She frantically watched his face and relaxed when she saw it turn up into a smile.

"Ten steps ahead of you." He turned his attention back to Mercedes and Rachel returned her gaze to the front of the room.

Mr. Schuester clapped his hands and called all eyes back to him at the front of the room.

"Alright, let the best couple win!"

* * *

><p>"S!" Brittany bounded down the hallway lightly and stopped in front of hers and Santana's lockers. "I have an idea!"<p>

Santana shut her locker and grinned at her, "I do _love_ your ideas." A wink sent Brittany's stomach to the floor.

"No not that….maybe…no wait," she looked flustered and scrunched her face trying to remember what had brought her there, "Oh! So Mr. Schue said the best _couple _would win right?"

A cold crept into Santana's spine but she tried her hardest to keep the feeling off of her face, "Yeah?"

Brittany looked around and inched in closer, "I know you and I aren't dating, because, you know," her voice dropped lower, "sex isn't dating."

It made Santana feel sick to nod her head in agreement, but she added a light hum as a response.

"But I thought maybe we could go," her blue eyes shifted around Santana's expression, "on a date or something?"

Santana's breath caught in her chest and her heart pounded heavily. A large part of her wanted to scream 'yes!' but there was still a tiny part that kept her mouth closed tight. As much as she tried to fight the apprehension off of her face, Brittany caught on quickly.

Much to her surprise, Brittany didn't lose an ounce of sincerity when she softly said, "I know you're freaking out right now. But I just thought it could be something fun for us to do." The brightness of Brittany's smile was enough to make Santana want to change her mind but a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach kept her quiet still.

"We can invite Kurt and Blaine if you want. That way it will look like a group of friends going out," she looked around before moving closer and grabbing Santana's hand out of sight, "I really wanna do this."

Santana finally found a few words, "So a double-date?"

Brittany shook her head, "You don't have think of it that way. We're just going to hang out with our gay friend and his kind of-boyfriend, while you and I are just friends who get our cuddle on more frequently than everyone else."

Santana felt a tiny shift in the weight bearing down heavily on her mind and let out a tiny smile, "I can be cool with that."

Unbelievable to Santana, Brittany's face almost broke in two with how large her smile had become. The formerly shifty eyes twinkled brightly from their place on the most innocent face Santana had ever seen.

"I'm going to go tell Kurt!" Brittany squealed and wrapped her arms hastily around Santana's still-defensive figure. "This will be so much fun!"

"I know it will…" Santana said, silently praying for the strength to believe her own words.

* * *

><p>"Why aren't we sitting in the booth?" Brittany asked eyeing the table where they were seated. Santana nervously watched the customers around them and kept checking the front door for Kurt and Blaine. "We always sit in the booth."<p>

Resettling her eyes on Brittany's confused face she pointed down towards her end of the table, "Don't you remember this?"

Tracing her delicate finger, she followed it down to a small engraving made in Santana's side of the table. A tiny heart enclosed their initials and the memory flooded Brittany's thoughts.

"_You know this place won't be here forever," Victor Lopez remarked over to his daughter and Brittany who both in turn stared at him incredulously, "eventually we are going to have to start going somewhere else for dinner."_

_Santana shook her head defiantly, "They can't close this place! I don't care if I have to buy it from the owners and manage it myself, it's staying open." _

_He shook his head and turned back to his friends with a playful smirk; Brittany's dad gave him a smug look of approval for teasing their girls. _

"_A-Are they really going to close it Sani?" Brittany feebly questioned Santana, who sat idly on her side. _

_She took Brittany's pinky in her own and squeezed reassuringly, "No Britt-Britt. It'll stay, I promise." _

"_Are you sure?" Brittany asked again. She usually was more inclined to fall victim to their fathers' endless teasing. Seeing the usually unaffected Santana become so flustered made her feel like they might not be messing with them that time. _

"_Look," Santana grabbed a knife from her place-setting and started to carve into the rich textured wood of the table, "I'll make this here now, and I promise you that in ten years we can come back and it will still be here." She finished smoothing away the wood shavings and pulled back her hands to reveal the tiny heart. Inside were their initials in tight script, one on top of the other. _

"_What if they replace the tables?" Brittany jokingly asked. Santana couldn't help but smirk at her._

"_Well, we will just have to keep coming back and make sure that doesn't happen." _

Brittany ran her fingers over the indentation on the table. "It's not exactly ten years San. Aren't we breaking some sort of promise by being here early?" She looked around as if she feared someone was going to come and scold them for choosing this table.

"No B. We're just, keeping tabs on it." Santana winked at her and she returned the gesture with a beaming smile just as the two boys entered the building and made their way over.

"Sorry we are a little late," Kurt apologized taking a seat next to Brittany, "Blaine had a hard time pulling himself away from Carole's extensive collection of romance novels." Santana eyed Blaine curiously and he shrugged his shoulders in response.

"I'm not going to apologize for enjoying a little reading," he said while taking his seat next to the smirking girl.

"A little reading that is targeted towards 50 year old women," she teased and Brittany snickered playfully. Recognizing Santana was not trying to rile him, Blaine joined in with the light laughter of the table.

"You could say that." He reached across the table and placed his hand over top of Kurt's effectively changing the mood of the table. "Thanks for inviting me Kurt. I just realized I haven't told you how excited I am for our date since I picked you up."

Kurt gazed back longingly into his eyes and said softly, "Nowhere near as excited as I am."

Brittany watched this exchange with adoring eyes and when she turned to Santana she saw the playful gag. A small kick under the table pulled Santana's eyes to her own and she smirked at her.

Blaine removed his eyes from Kurt and looked towards them. "So, how long have you two been together?" Kurt almost spat out his water at the question. Santana's eyes shifted around the room again. Brittany seemed to be the only one with a cool head at the moment and quickly answered him.

"We aren't together." Her eyes moved to Santana against her own volition. "Just friends."

Blaine didn't sense the awkward tension at the table and continued, "Wait, I'm confused. Kurt told me this was a double date."

Santana decided to keep her mouth shut, not out of fear, but to not upset Brittany. As much as she wished she could be comfortable enough to say this was a date out loud, she didn't trust her words. She didn't want to stumble through her explanation and offend Brittany.

So the other girl continued, "It is."

Blaine furrowed his brow again, "But you just said you were just friends?"

"And?" Brittany asked through her own scrunched expression.

"I…don't," he began but was cut off by Kurt's waving hand.

"Just let it go Blaine." He chuckled a little. Santana had dropped her eyes to the table and began to pick unconsciously at the wood but being careful to not affect the carvings. "So have you two decided who you're going to partner up with for the duets competition?"

Santana quirked an eyebrow at him, "Can't really talk about that now can we? You're more or less our competition."

Kurt laughed again, "Well you might want to tell Brittany that because has been gushing about it since Mr. Schue told us. Seemed particularly interested in the prize. Something about how winning would make you 'endlessly happy.'"

Santana blushed and glanced over at Brittany, who seemed lost in thought.

Brittany realized they hadn't discussed if they were going to be partners yet. Since they usually worked on their choreography and solos together, she just assumed they were going to be working with each other. She turned to Santana with an inquiring look. "Did we?"

"Did we what?" Santana asked her through a mouthful of breadstick.

"Did we pick our partners?" Brittany continued and reached over to wipe a tiny bread crumb from the corner of her best friend's face.

Swallowing, Santana smiled at Brittany, "Do you really think I would be with anyone else but you?"

Her words sent a delightful shiver down Brittany's spine and her face perked up instantly. "Just making sure."

She wanted to reach across the table and mimic the move Blaine had made on Kurt, but she knew that would be an unwanted gesture. '_Well, not unwanted,_' she thought, '_but definitely unappreciated.'_

After their meal had arrived, they all chatted incessantly about glee clubs, and how the New Directions were definitely going to crush the Warblers at sectionals. Santana was impressed by Blaine's confidence despite her glaring looks after he attested to the progress they had made with their P!nk number. Seeing Kurt's face light up, with every word out of Blaine's mouth, made her smile in approval. She was happy that Kurt had found someone who could give him the acceptance he lacked definitively at McKinley.

Releasing her eyes from Kurt, she turned to glance at Brittany and realized for the first time that despite the boys' presence, she focused solely on her. She smiled at Brittany, who raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the back of the restaurant. Santana had to turn her head and look at what Brittany was gesturing at. When she saw the sign for the restrooms, she squinted her eyes and turned back to her.

"Do you have to pee?" Santana asked ignoring the boys who were lost in their own conversation next to them.

Brittany shook her head and let a devilish smirk take over her face. Without another word, she stood up from her chair and sauntered slowly towards the bathrooms.

Shocked from what she had just implied, Santana took a moment to compose herself before excusing herself from the table.

Blaine looked up from his boyfriend and eyed her suspiciously, "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," she answered simply but stayed when she saw his question seemed unanswered. "Girls always go to the bathroom together. Did you forget that from your comfortable position at Homo Hideout?"

Kurt's face fell from surprise, "Santana!"

"What? I was just making an observation that his school is full of boys. Calm down." She shrugged her shoulders and set off towards the bathroom. Brittany was long since out of sight and she hurried her steps hoping she hadn't thought she wasn't coming.

Pushing open the door, she was met with the back of Brittany's slender frame leaned forward against the counter. With a quick glance towards the stalls she realized all of them were unoccupied and moved swiftly over to her. She wrapped two arms around her waist and started to place tiny kisses along Brittany's neck.

"I thought you didn't get my hint," she whispered seductively and ran the palms of her hands over the two arms securely around her body.

"Sorry," Santana loosened her grip asshe turned around in her grasp. Brittany placed two arms around Santana's neck and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She had wanted to kiss her all night and she made sure Santana knew that.

Pulling Santana's bottom lip between her own and then releasing she whispered, "You're forgiven." Santana reattached their lips and swiped Brittany's bottom lip begging to explore her mouth. Brittany let her mouth hang loose and started to trail her hands all over Santana's body. No matter how many times she was allowed to touch Santana, the giddiness rose in her belly exactly like it always had.

Santana focused on the sweet taste that was Brittany. It was addictive; every attempt at trying to tease Brittany, by moving away, failed when she couldn't help but reclaim her lips. She felt her own downfall when Brittany grasped at her hips, or at her thighs, but knew there was nothing that could make her give it up.

"Oh my god!" a piercing voice screeched through the bathroom and echoed off the walls down into their ears.

Santana whipped around to see a woman she didn't recognize, but understood she was an employee from the forest green apron she wore, standing shell-shocked only a few feet away from them. Realization set in on the brown-haired woman and her expression turned hateful. "This is a public place! Take your…_sinful _indiscretions out of this restaurant!"

Panic spread through every inch of Santana's body and she was cemented to the tile ground at her feet. Brittany eyed her and was incredibly surprised to see Santana so fear-stricken that she couldn't retaliate against the woman. When she made no move to leave, Brittany nudged her in the shoulder. Santana shot to life and walked shakily out of the bathroom with Brittany in tow.

They walked back to the table where Kurt and Blaine seemed very lost each other's words and sat down hastily. Santana started to pick up her fork when she saw the woman who had just caught them exit the restrooms. She watched the employee walk over to a coworker and engage her in a heated conversation. At once, both of their eyes turned to the table where the four sat and glared at them. Santana assumed they had realized that Kurt and Blaine were together as well as Brittany and herself.

Brittany was already back in a conversation with Kurt and Blaine when Santana unexpectedly stood up from the table and rushed towards the exit without one word to her companions. Brittany stood up from her seat and called out, "Santana!" but Santana ignored her cry and left the restaurant. A few of the people around them stared awkwardly at the outburst.

Brittany wanted to go after her, but knew that she would want to be alone. Following her would only make Santana more upset. But another part of her didn't want to go find her. Brittany found herself incredibly angry at Santana. She had left her on what more or less was a date and for the first time Brittany wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at Santana. In the history of their friendship, she had only felt this way once before. And the last time had been the night Santana had rejected her. Santana's hurried departure was exactly how that felt. Like rejection.

Sitting back down, Kurt watched Brittany awkwardly. "Are you okay?" He timidly put a hand over Brittany's and knowingly watched her fight back tear-filled eyes.

"No Kurt. I'm really not okay."

* * *

><p>Santana drove through the streets of Lima. Tears poured down her face and she tried her best to wipe them away as they continued to fall. She didn't know where she was going, but knew she needed to get as far away from Breadstix as she possibly could. Houses passed by her impossibly fast and she looked down to the speedometer and realized she was driving 30 miles per hour over the speed limit through the residential districts of town. Knowing getting arrested would surely not be the greatest end to her night, she slowed the car and took time to glance around her and find out where she was.<p>

Identical white houses lined the streets and she recognized the neighborhood where Quinn lived. She had unknowingly been drawn to her house and slowly stopped her car in front of the Fabray residence. Santana rested her head against the steering wheel as she shut off the car and worked her hardest to stop the trembling fits rolling through her body before she opened the car door and walked up the thin pathway towards the large wooden door. Normally that was the point in which the uneasiness of entering Quinn's house set in, but she was too distraught to think about anything other than the comforting words she knew awaited her on the other side of the door. Trusting to know that Quinn was the only one who could pull her out of this state. Well, other than, '_Brittany.' _A new fit of shivers spread through her body just thinking about Brittany, who she had stranded at the restaurant. The usually-forgiving girl would not forgive her soon for this and she knew it.

Knocking on the front door, Santana prayed that Quinn would be the one to answer her. Judy and her never had all that comforting of a relationship, all though she was much better than Russell, and right now all she wanted was to more or less fall into her friend's comforting embrace. Against her wishes, a confused Judy opened the door and eyed Santana nervously.

"Santana? Are you okay?" she asked but her voice lacked any concern. The question was only asked with an air of formality and forced alarm to her disheveled appearance.

Santana feared her words were going to come out weak and only nodded in response hoping she would take the hint and let her into the house. Thankfully, Judy only stepped aside and allowed her to enter. "She's upstairs," Judy said firmly, "Go on up."

Santana nodded again and started to make her way up the stairs. She tried her best to wipe away more of the evidence that she had been crying and came to a halt in front of Quinn's bedroom door. She raised a shaking finger and knocked with one knuckle lightly on the door. "Q-Quinn?"

A loud rustling of papers signaled that Quinn was coming towards the noise and the door pulled away to reveal her looking incredibly flustered. The look of concern that Santana had been expecting was instead replaced with an angry glare.

"Santana! Why is Brittany calling me crying when you two are supposed to be on a date with her and the boys?" The hostile words caught Santana off guard and she couldn't say anything in return. Her mouth hung open trying to find words but she came up short. Quinn, for the first time, took a moment to let her eyes wander on Santana's face and her glare was softened almost instantaneously. "Come here." She widened her arms and allowed her to fall against her chest.

Santana let the control she had over her tears go and ended up sobbing heavily into her shoulder. Quinn wrapped one arm around her body and used the other to gently push her door shut. She started to lead them over to her bed, not letting go of the weeping girl, and sat them down on the edge. Quinn wrapped both arms around her and allowed Santana to drop her head against her shoulder. Santana's body tremored with the impact of her sobs and Quinn tried her best to rub soothing hands over her back.

"What happened, Santana?" she asked softly trying to coax Santana into calming down a little.

Santana raised her head a little off of Quinn's shoulder and shook her head trying to clear the tears out of her eyes, "S-Someone walked in on u-us."

Quinn furrowed her brow, "Walked in on you?"

Santana nodded her head; the tears had subsided for now, "We were fooling around in the bathroom" she trailed off quietly hoping she wouldn't make her say anymore.

Quinn's eyes widened and she nodded her head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Santana started but dropped her head back to Quinn's shoulder, "And then she was looking at us, and Kurt and Blaine, and I couldn't handle it so I ran."

"You ran out on Britt?"

"It wasn't like that, well, it was, but I needed to get out of there. I couldn't take it." Santana fought the trembling in her body but she mentally couldn't control them.

"Take what?" Quinn felt the shaking and tightened her arms around her, trying to instill any sense of comfort she could.

Santana pulled out of her arms and started pacing her bedroom. "The stares, Q! I couldn't stay there and feel those women's glares for the rest of the night. They looked at me like I was disgusting," her voice lowered, "They looked at Britt like she was disgusting. I couldn't stay there and watch them judge her."

Quinn didn't know what to say so she shifted the conversation in a direction she anticipated would upset Santana, "You really hurt her S, she was really upset."

"Is she okay?" Santana stopped pacing and put her full attention on Quinn. The somber looks she read on Quinn's face made her heart drop in her chest. "What did she say?"

Quinn sighed and leaned back further into her bed on the palms of her hands. "She was really pissed. She didn't understand why you just left her." Santana felt the guilt coursing through her veins. "I've never heard her so mad, honestly. I didn't think Brittany could get that angry. I've just, never heard her like that."

"What do you mean?" Santana eyed her curiously. Angry Brittany wasn't something she was used to either. Out of the two of them, Brittany was usually the more rational and never showed any signs of aggression towards anyone. Knowing she had ended that nice streak broke her heart.

"Have you ever heard her yell?" Santana shook her head. "Neither had I. Not at least outside of cheerleading. She was _fuming_ Santana. I was scared. And that's coming from me, who has dealt with the brunt of my alcoholic father and, well, you."

Santana scoffed, "Did you really just compare me to your father?"

"For this analogy," Quinn answered, "trust me, it's appropriate."

Santana nervously started pacing the room again, "Did she say anything that could help me fix this?"

Quinn lowered her eyes and shook her head, "I _really_ don't think she would want me to tell you what she said."

Santana's eyebrows shot up and she walked closer to the bed, "Please Q? What did she say?"

"It's going to hurt," Quinn warned her. Santana swallowed hard but nodded her head. "She told me, that for the first time, she was disappointed in you." Santana's eyes dropped and she didn't realize Quinn had more until her voice came out slower again, "And," she paused to allow Santana the time to look back at her.

Quinn watched the hurt in Santana's eyes and didn't want to continue. These words, coming from Brittany, had to feel like a bullet piercing Santana through the heart. Being the one to deliver the message made her sick to her stomach, but watching the pleading look in Santana's eyes, she knew she wouldn't deny her. As much as it hurt Santana to hear these words, it would be worse not to know, and Quinn knew that.

"And she said that she didn't want to see you, for a while." Someone must of punched her in the chest and she didn't notice; Santana knew she had failed the promise she had made to herself to never upset Brittany. The only person in the whole world she felt entirely at home with wanted nothing to do with her.

Quinn put a hand down on Santana's shoulder and looked at her, "It'll be okay San. It's Brittany; both you and I know she loves you and you're her best friend. She won't stay mad forever."

"That's not the point Q." She stood up and paced the room with less certainty than before. She needed to do something. Her former straight back and forth lines became staggered and wavering. There was nothing that could center her. Brittany was upset, and there was nothing she could do about it. Knowing she had to wait it out was the worst feeling in the world. One thing she knew about Brittany, and something they had in common, was that when something was wrong, they needed to give each other a little space.

But for some reason, Santana felt like she had screwed up beyond repair. And she knew something bad was going to come out of it.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me?" The wheelchair bound boy looked around, nervously awaiting the hoard of slushies that should be raining down on him at any moment. Artie returned his eyes to the coyly smiling blonde standing in front of his locker.<p>

"Do you want to do the duet with me?" Brittany's face only faulted slightly, she was pretty sure the question had come out clearly the first time. _'Maybe his ears need a wheelchair too.'_

"Why?" Artie asked awkwardly. He was shocked that she had even approached him and now that she genuinely wanted to spend time with him, he struggled to keep his jaw off of the ground.

"I really like your voice and I figured if I had any chance at winning that trip to Breadstix I needed you as my partner." Artie's face scrunched up at her honesty and she continued trying to win him over, "Plus I think you're totally awesome." She paused and moved closer, trailing a hand over his sweater-clad shoulder, "And totally cute."

He grinned and a tiny blush settled on his cheeks. "Okay then. Let's do it."

Brittany smiled and walked behind him and started to slowly push him down the hallway.

She didn't notice Santana standing a few sets of lockers down the hallway watching the scene unfold.

She didn't notice Santana cringe when she ran her hand over Artie's arm.

And she didn't notice the growing sadness reflected in distant brown eyes as Santana thought to herself, _'What did I do?'_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading :D<strong>_


	21. you know i'm no good

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Bouncing back after the last chapter mishap, with a chapter that I really enjoyed writing and I think came out well. There's a larger faberry interaction here since it hasn't really been around the last few chapters. But we finish strong with some Brittana :)  
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**jace5238****-I will be following canon as a basic structure to work within lol as you've seen and i guess liked most of the time i go outside canon and there will be much more of AU-ish things in coming chapters. But I'm working extremely hard to negate Bartie, Finchel, and Suinn. thanks for reading :)  
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**laura sedai****- Once again thanks for noticing that inconsistency in the last chapter. You helped me out :) I'm glad you like it :)  
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**Minerva**** McBadass-****Haha first drunk review! or at least that I am aware of lol thank you for all the compliments :D**

**gleeknumber1-Haha, unfortunately there is Bartie. But do not fret, b/c there was clearly still Brittana stuff going on even while Brittany was with Artie ;)  
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**iamirreplazable-Si si my friend, but lets start first with repairing that damage though :)  
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**Breakdown6-Yup, my sole intention of writing this is to kill you ;) and now I'm glad to know my devious plan is working...just kidding. First off, "wheels"-dying, but I completely agree with you about it being lame. I personally had this whole love-hate thing with artie after Safety Dance where he got out of the chair cause I just felt like it was unnecessary, and season 2 I didn't want him with Brittany, for obvious reasons. But I actually like him this season. Guess what? I might have fulfilled the wishes of your review with this chapter...maybe. Not for you specifically, but coincidentally, ummm...yeah...well...enjoy :)**

**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! I'm still getting surprised everyday with new ones! Glad you're all enjoying it!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

**And after a ridiculously long heading enjoy! -also, when the texting comes up, pay attention to the perspective switch bc the texting changes too. you'll figure it out I'm sure :)**

* * *

><p>Santana walked with her head held high down the hallway, approaching her target with a general uneasiness she wasn't used to experiencing in the halls of McKinley. Usually this was her territory. But she was about to cross behind unfamiliar lines that she had only crossed on few occasions. It's not that she was scared, she's <em>Santana Lopez<em> for christ-sakes, but approaching her destination she started to become wary of the wandering eyes in the hallways. Moreover she was worried who was going to observe the exchange, and what they would have to say afterwards.

"Berry." She came to a halt and slammed her locker door shut. Rachel looked up at her with large doe eyes screaming in terror. While Santana and she were members of the same glee club, she knew that outside of the choir room walls, that commonality didn't apply. "I have a proposition for you."

Trying to control the trembling she experienced whenever Santana was near her, she responded in a quivering voice, "I-I...w-with what?"

"Schuester gave us that mash-up assignment," Rachel nodded her head as best she could to ensure Santana she was listening, "and I figured if we are going to beat the guys we should take as much time to practice as we can."

Rachel bunched her face in confusion, "While I...understand your need to win, and will fully welcome any after school time spent on our assignment," she paused trying to not irritate the girl who was already rolling her eyes at the words stumbling out of her mouth, "I do not really see what you're proposing."

Santana cut back almost instantly, "Maybe if you let me finish what I was saying, we wouldn't have that misunderstanding, now would we stubbles?"

Rachel flinched at the nickname and made a motion with her hand for her to continue. The more time she spent around Santana, the easier it was for her to overcome that initial paralyzing effect she had on her.

"I was going to suggest that we meet somewhere tonight to work on it." Santana went on but paused when she saw another confused look on Rachel's face. "What?"

"Sorry, I'm just still waiting for why your here."

Santana's eyebrows rose at the tone of Rachel's voice. _'When did the hobbit get a backbone?' _she thought and shifted her facial expression back into its trademark scowl.

"I _was going_ to say we should do it at your house." The edge in Santana's voice made Rachel uneasy and she cleared her throat before speaking.

"Why should I offer my house? Wouldn't it be more comfortable to do it at, say, Tina's house." Her voice indicated that she was holding back a crucial piece of information and Santana picked up on it easily.

"What's wrong with _your _house?" Santana inquired and tried to fight the smirk off of her face. She had a feeling she knew what the problem was, considering her last trip to the Berry residence.

Rachel stammered, "My…fathers…aren't particularly fond of a few members of our club."

There was no way for Santana to hold back her smirk this time, "_Fathers_ huh?"

Rachel sighed and realized she had given herself up, "Look Santana, my father has expressed his…dislike for you a multitude of times and I don't think it would be a good idea to have you over. But like I said before: _members_. It's not just you I would be…_uncomfortable_ having in my home."

"Are we discussing our little Quinnie now?" Santana shot her eyes far down the hallway to where Quinn rested against a locker next to Sam. She watched her girl lean into a kiss and shook her head at the absurdity of the sight. Santana returned her eyes to Rachel who was watching her face intently. "I thought we already…figured out what the deal was with her."

Rachel felt a tiny blush crawl into her cheeks and she ducked her head. Clearing her throat again, she glanced back up, "That's not what I'm talking about Santana. While _I_ would be entirely comfortable having Quinn in my house, my father would not be as receptive to the idea. Like you, he's expressed his _distaste_ for her as well. I guess that's what happens when you're forced to watch your daughter struggle through her day-to-day life."

Santana shifted the weight on her feet uncomfortably. The Berry men, or rather Rachel's father, had every reason to not like her or Quinn. They had tortured Rachel relentlessly for the first two years of high school without a single regret. Santana, for the first time, felt remorse for her actions, and it was only because she had to watch the hurt feelings in Rachel's eyes come to the surface.

"Rachel…" Santana started but was cut off with a waving hand.

"No, it's in the past. While I don't entirely understand the reasons for being treated that way, I've forgiven you and Quinn. I'm past it. But I still don't think it's a good idea for everyone to come over my house."

Santana was getting desperate at this point and she feared that the only way to get Rachel to consider her suggestion was to tell the truth. There was no reason for anybody to help her, but maybe when it involved Brittany, she might stand a faring chance.

"Look Ber-Rachel, this isn't just about our glee assignment." Santana lowered her eyes and chose to stare at the locker behind her.

"Now I really don't understand," Rachel commented and then kept quiet waiting for more of an explanation.

"Brittany," her voice wavered at the mention of _her_ name, "she just," her voice boomed out in frustration, "look she won't come over my house to work on it, and she has some weird thing about being afraid of Tina's parents, and I came to you, because she likes you." Rachel's eyes widened at her and Santana sighed irritably, "I know she doesn't show it that often, but she really likes listening to you sing, and she always begs me to invite you to hang out with us," Rachel cheeks reddened, "but that's not the point and I just thought she'd for sure agree to come if _you_ were the one to have people over."

Rachel looked away from Santana and she appeared lost in thought contemplating the decision. Santana was still trying to rebuild her composure when Rachel looked at her again, "I know it's not really my place, but is there something wrong between you two?"

Santana's heart started pounding in her chest and she fought to keep her breathing in check. "Look, Hobbit, we're not playing Dr. Phil here. You know what never mind." She turned her back and started to walk away when a voice stopped her.

"Alright, Santana, tell everyone to be at my house at 6pm sharp." Santana turned back around and nodded her head in response. "And can you try to act, a little more respectful this time around my dad. I think it might make the night a little easier."

Santana chuckled and saluted Rachel before turning on her heels and strolling away. She pulled her phone out of the waistband in her Cheerio's uniform and opened a new message and selected a group she had entitled "gleegirls" which included Rachel, Tina, Quinn, Brittany, and Mercedes. She unchecked Brittany's name so she could send a personal text after she sent a general one to the rest of the girls.

**(12:32 PM): **Everyone to Berry's tonight for our mash-up. 5pm.

Next, she opened a message to Brittany and carefully picked her words. Brittany hadn't been returning a lot of her texts recently and she didn't want to give her reason not to this time.

**(12:33 PM): **Hey! Everyone is going to Rachel's tonight to practice our glee assignment. Are you coming? It's going to be fun :)

She neared her Pre-Calculus classroom and paused outside the door, waiting for a response. Her phone buzzed in time with the warning bell.

**(12:35 PM) Britt: **Yeah sure. I'll be there.

Santana smiled at the idea of Brittany being there, but she could tell from the lackluster response that for the two of them it was going to be a long night.

Xx

Rachel watched Santana walk away and turned back to her locker to reorganize a few of her books. She worried about the reaction her father was going to have when she informed him that _all_ of theglee club was going to be at their house that evening, or at least all of the girls. As much as he was going to have a field day letting Santana into the house, he was going to be _ecstatic_ to learn that Quinn was going to be joining them as well. Leroy didn't exactly make his negative feelings toward her a secret in their home but Rachel hoped he would at least try to be civil for the sake of it being a school related visit.

Thinking of Quinn, Rachel pulled her pink phone out of her locker and scrolled through her contacts to find her number. The bedazzled jewels on the back of it made the phone hard to grasp and she internally sighed at the frustrating bumps under her fingers as typed out a message with her thumbs.

**(12:35 PM): **I'm sure Santana has already informed you of the glee meeting at my house tonight but I feel like I should warn you that my father may not give you the most positive reception.

Just as she was going to put the device down it vibrated against the tips of her fingers.

**(12:35 PM) Quinn: **He's not going to bar me from entering the door or anything is he? ;)

Rachel smiled at the lack of apprehension in Quinn's response. She closed her locker and started trotting down the hallway, not removing her eyes from the tiny screen in front of her.

**(12:36 PM): **I wouldn't put it past him…

**(12:36 PM) Quinn:** Well that doesn't make me feel any better about it.

**(12:36 PM): **I'll be having a talk with him the second I get home today. Hopefully his freak out will have calmed down by then.

Quinn was slowly entering the class she shared with Santana and shifted down into her seat next to her while she watched on with a smirk. Santana chuckled at how Quinn hadn't been able to remove her eyes from her phone and realized quickly who she must have been talking to.

**(12:37 PM): **Well try your best. I'll try to remain invisible while I'm there so my presence doesn't provoke him ;)

**(12:38 PM) Rach:** Try not to wear your Cheerios uniform then :)

Quinn tapped her pencil against the desk in confusion. Her brow scrunched up a little and Santana tried her best to hold back a chuckle at her expression. This whole scenario was entertaining her a lot more than it probably should have been.

**(12:40 PM): **…I don't get it?

The response this time took much longer and she figured Rachel must have been paying attention to whatever class she was it; Quinn probably should have been doing the same thing but she found it hard to concentrate on class when she was busy trying to solve Rachel's text message.

**(12:54 PM) Rach: **Because of the red…like a bull…was that a bad joke?

Quinn laughed out loud and attracted the attention of the kids sitting around her. Santana glared at each of them, trying to cover for Quinn, who had buried her face into her arm from embarrassment. When she was sure no one was still watching, she pulled her phone back out and typed her answer.

**(12:56 PM): **Good enough joke to make me laugh out in the middle of class.

**(12:57 PM) Rach:** No you did not! That's embarrassing :)

**(12:58 PM): **You're telling me! I blame you though.

**(12:59 PM) Rach:** WHAT? How could you blame me? I'm not the one who can't control their impulses.

Quinn snickered lightly and put her phone under her thigh as the teacher walked past her table. She felt it buzz against her leg and realized Rachel must have been getting anxious without her response.

**(1:06 PM) Rach:** You can't blame me for that Quinn. It was not my fault.

**(1:07 PM): **Just kidding Rachel. Calm down. Now, as much as I like talking to you, I think I should pay attention for at least the rest of this class.

**(1:08 PM) Rach:** Yes you definitely should :) Text me after!

**(1:08 PM): **Will do :)

Quinn put her phone away and looked over towards Santana's notes to see where they were in the lesson. She was met by smirking chocolate eyes that were already silently teasing her.

"I don't want to hear it Lopez."

* * *

><p>Brittany walked slowly towards the parking lot and looked around for Artie. His mother had been giving her rides home since they started dating and she really enjoyed spending the time with him. But being with Artie still gave her a lingering itch for where she really wanted to be. As much as she liked riding to and from school with him, she missed the trips with Santana and their loud singing with the top down in her car. She missed stopping off for ice cream whenever she asked, something that Mrs. Abrams had refused as fast as she mentioned it. She missed Santana.<p>

But she still remembered the hurt she had caused her a couple weeks ago at Breadstix. It made Brittany avoid the restaurant anytime Artie or her parents suggested it and part of her never felt like she was going to be able to set foot in there again without remembering that night. Santana had been trying to fix things since that night and as much as she wanted to forgive her, she couldn't.

Her mind raced, thinking of the night ahead of her at Rachel's house. The fact that it even was allowed at Rachel house screamed Santana. She knew that Brittany always wanted to spend more time with Rachel and she was trying to manipulate that desire to raise her chances of being forgiven. A large part of her didn't want to go, but since it was for glee, she couldn't really decline.

"Hey!" Artie approached Brittany and motioned for her to lean down. Brittany crouched down into a kiss and smiled at the tiny fluttering in her stomach. "How was your day?"

"It was alright, to be honest I spent most of my time in Coach Sue's office. There are a couple new Cheerios and she wanted me to help them with our Nationals routine." Brittany walked behind him and started pushing them towards his mother's awaiting van.

"You haven't gone to a lot of your classes lately. Is something wrong?" Artie questioned her.

"No." _'Yes,'_ she thought. Brittany had been avoiding seeing Santana since their 'date' and throwing herself into the Cheerio's was a surefire way to do that. None of the teachers would question her absence with one threatening look from Coach Sylvester. She was lucky Santana hadn't figured out her plan and insisted on helping her.

"Okay. Just asking." Artie explained and then he switched his expression to a more hopeful one. "So are you excited for our date tonight?"

Brittany furrowed her brow, "Date?"

He nodded his head and continued, "Yeah we're going to get dinner tonight." When she still stared at him blankly he asked, "Did you not remember?"

She shook her head and then her eyes widened remembering the meeting tonight, "The girls are getting together to rehearse tonight…" Brittany trailed off watching the disappointed look on his face. "You know what? Nevermind, I'll just send Rachel a text and let her know I can't come."

Artie's face lit up and he grabbed her hand between them on the car seat. "Thanks babe."

Brittany smiled, but then faltered when she realized he had said dinner. "Where are we going?"

"I was hoping to get wings or something. Is that okay?" He asked sweetly and she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.

"Sounds great." She turned to look at the passing houses outside the window. '_As long as it's not Breadstix,'_ Brittany watched the restaurant pass by her eyes and quickly get left behind.

* * *

><p>The tension in the Berry household was palpable as Rachel rushed to answer the first doorbell of the evening. Leroy followed her to the front door and she hoped for it to be Brittany, Tina, or Mercedes. An unknown face would be more comforting to her father than the two he etched into his mind with more than unpleasant descriptions.<p>

When Rachel pulled open the door her hopes were diminished. Standing proudly on the other side of the doorframe was Quinn, who had changed out of her red and white uniform into a pair of black shorts and a form-fitting green t-shirt that clung to each curve of her torso.

Rachel felt her father's lingering presence and watched as Quinn struggled to keep her eyes solely on her.

"Hi," was the only thing that exited Rachel's mouth and she motioned for Quinn to come inside.

"Thanks. Is anyone else here?" Quinn hoped the answer was yes so that she could quickly move out from under Leroy's scrutiny. Rachel shook her head and started to walk towards the stairs leading upstairs.

Before Quinn followed her, she turned to the towering figure leaning against a wall in the hallway leading to the kitchen. "Hello Mr. Berry."

Leroy simply nodded and walked away with his scowl still set in place. Rachel let out a sigh in frustration as he retreated to his office. "I told him to be nice."

"Well, considering the last time I showed up on your doorstep, that _was_ nice. " Quinn smiled at Rachel and started to follow her up to her bedroom.

"That is a very good point." Rachel pushed open her door and Quinn reached up block her eyes from the very familiar and blinding pink walls of her room.

"Dear god Rachel, I thought you might have changed this by now." A smirk indicated that she was not being malicious and Rachel smiled back.

"I like pink. And if memory serves, you liked pink as well," she countered and sat on her bed.

Quinn glanced between the bed and Rachel's desk chair before opting to sit on the floor in front of the bed. Rachel shook her head still smiling.

"Liked is the key word there. I find myself more impartial towards grays and greens nowadays," Quinn remarked and indicated down to the shirt she was wearing.

Rachel's face scrunched together, "I didn't think that people's favorite colors changed all that much."

"I like to think I'm a much different person than I was then." Instantly Quinn regretted her words and their implication.

Rachel's smile dropped and she had to look away, "Well I think we can both agree on that."

"Rach, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"I know Quinn. It's okay. We're supposed to be forgetting our past. Not dwelling on it. So for that I apologize." Rachel shifted her gaze to the walls and a silence took over the room.

It was surprising to the both of them that the quiet wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. Somehow they were both content in having nothing to say. The moment actually was reminiscent of their childhood where they were frequently in the same room, doing their own thing, and only talking when it was completely necessary. It was extremely different from their outings in which neither would shut up, but there was something about being alone together that placated them.

Quinn was the first one to speak, but it was only because she felt like she was supposed to. "So, how are things with Finn?"

Rachel's head snapped to her and asked, "Are you sure we should be talking about that?"

Quinn chuckled a little, "We're friends Rachel. We can talk about this kind of thing."

"Well," Rachel paused and looked back and forth between her hazel eyes for any indication of discomfort—she wasn't entirely convinced this was an appropriate topic of conversation—"we are doing okay I guess."

"You guess?" Quinn asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I mean, I really like Finn," Quinn squirmed discretely and was happy Rachel's eyes were far away lost in thought, "but sometimes I just feel like he isn't all there with us." Her warm brown eyes returned to Quinn's attentive gaze. "You know what I mean?"

"Like, he isn't all that invested in your relationship?" Quinn asked, but it was more of a statement.

"Exactly! And I just don't understand it." Rachel's gaze lingered deep in Quinn's expression but she turned away to contemplate her own thoughts.

"He was like that with me too." Quinn paused, unsure of how to approach this conversation. All she really was expecting was "good" or "fantastic". She didn't expect Rachel would actually ask her opinion on anything regarding her ex. "I think sometimes he has to find himself outside of relationships. He's not very invested in things as they are happening. He likes to go after things but when he finally has them, he is unsure of how to keep them."

"So a-are you trying to say that he doesn't want me now that he has me?" The tiny resentment in Rachel's voice didn't go unnoticed.

Quinn shook her head and tried to calm her with a smile, "No, I'm just saying that he sometimes doesn't appreciate what he has. But that doesn't mean he doesn't want you."

Rachel tried not to blush when she realized there was a tiny compliment into her answer. "And how about Sam? I heard you two are finally 'official.'"

Quinn smirked at the title, but lost it when she thought about the boy that had been pursuing her since he showed up at the school. "Do you want to know the truth Rachel?"

She smiled, "Usually people prefer when you tell them the truth."

Quinn chuckled, "Well how about do you want to know a secret then?"

"Of course."

"A large part of the reason I'm with Sam, is for the appearance." Quinn averted her eyes and started to pick uncomfortably at the plush white carpeting.

The shock was clearly evident of Rachel's face and she didn't really know how to respond. In a hushed voice she finally managed, "That's really bad Quinn…"

"I know it is. But," she rehearsed the explanation in her mind; it was very easy considering she had to mention it to herself multiple times to make it through the day with her head held high, "I need to look the part. And with Sam, I can do that."

"Wouldn't you rather be with someone you actually _wanted_?" Rachel asked and Quinn's eyes moved quickly up to look into her own.

"Yes," she said forcibly, "I would."

A rush of uneasiness pooled through Rachel's body and she couldn't break their locked eyes. This was the feeling she was used to Quinn exhibiting on her, and no matter how many times she experienced it, it still knocked her off her feet.

Breaking the long silence was the doorbell that rang through the whole house. Rachel reluctantly stood up from her bed and walked towards the door. "I-I'll be right back okay?"

Quinn nodded and watched her exit the room.

Rachel shuffled her thoughts, pushing that moment far to the back of her head, as she headed down the staircase. When the doorbell rang two more times in succession followed by a large pounding on the hard wood of the door, she didn't have to guess who was on the other side.

Before she got a chance to open the door, he father rushed out of his office and heatedly walked towards her. "Well I wonder who that could be." Leroy quipped angrily and retook his place against the wall where he had been in when Quinn had arrived. Rachel rolled her eyes and moved towards the incessant knocking to pull the front door open revealing an irate Santana.

When Santana caught sight of Leroy against the wall, she dropped her flustered appearance and forced a smile onto her face. "Hey Rach! Ready to practice that performance?" The fake sweetness in her voice made everyone who could hear it sick, including herself.

"Who are you trying to fool?" Leroy remarked from his place down the hallway. Santana let her eyes trail over to him and her smile grew.

"Well hello Mr. Berry! I didn't even see you there." She gave him a tiny wave and returned her eyes to Rachel who did not look at all pleased with her enticements.

"Santana, can you just go upstairs? Quinn's already up there." Rachel said politely and motioned towards her bedroom.

"Can do Rach!" Santana started to trot up the stairs before turning back towards her, "Did you hear from Brittany? I told her I was heading over so I figured she would be here by now."

Rachel tilted her head at Santana and quirked her head, "She texted me a couple hours ago and told me she wasn't coming…did you not know that?"

All of the playfulness drained out of Santana's face and she said, in the most downtrodden voice Rachel had ever heard her use, "No…I didn't." She turned and walked up the remaining stairs.

'_This should be an interesting night…'_ Rachel thought as she watched Mercedes and Tina walk up the pathway through the still open doorway.

* * *

><p>Brittany sat outside on her front porch and watched the stars shimmer in the sky above her. She always liked looking at the stars and particularly liked the fact that they continuously lit up the darkness of the night. She had just gotten home from her date with Artie, and after an awkward goodnight kiss that was quietly observed by his mother, she made her way to the front of her house and chose to remain outside for a little while.<p>

A tiny crunch of leaves sent a wave of panic straight to her chest, but before she got a chance to move from her seat, she watched Santana approach from the sidewalk. Santana had her eyes trained on the ground until she was right in front of Brittany on the stairs; only then did she raise her chocolate eyes, normally so warm and comforting, looking far too cold and distant. Brittany wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around Santana's shoulders but her anger kept her glued to her seat.

"Hi." The word slipped out of Brittany's mouth before she had a chance to stop it and Santana seemed to relax a tiny bit, after she had made the first move.

"Hi" Santana said and started to move towards the stairs. A hand kept the distance between them.

"Do you mind not sitting next to me?" Brittany asked quickly. The hurt in Santana's dark eyes grew tenfold, but she couldn't cave in now.

"Britt," Santana began and shifted nervously on her feet, "I know it probably doesn't help but I'm really sorry."

"You're right, it doesn't help." Brittany said stiffly. The tension between the two kept them apart more than physically and the pressure had an unrelenting vice grip on her heart.

"I don't know what happened, B. I just," her eyes returned to the ground, "I got freaked because someone saw us…it was really uncomfortable. I was embarrassed."

Her was strained, "I can't tell if you're trying to lie to me, or to yourself." Santana's eyes shot up.

"I'm not…what? I'm not lying," Santana argued.

Brittany scoffed, "Really? I'm supposed to believe you, who I've seen having sex in school, got embarrassed at being caught in public. You weren't embarrassed for _what_ you were doing, you were embarrassed because of _who _you were doing it with."

Santana's mouth bobbed up and down a few times, devoid of words. "B…I'm not…"

"Yes you are Santana," Brittany's argued logically as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "you may not want to admit it, but you're ashamed of me."

Santana dropped the boundary pretenses and walked solidly in front of Brittany, placing two hands on either of her shoulders. She fought through her persistent shrug trying to remove the contact, "I'm not ashamed of you? How could you think that?"

Brittany halted her movements and stared heatedly into Santana's eyes, "How could _I_ think that? How about being left on our date Santana? Or you being speechless to that stupid lady. Oh, how about how you didn't look at me once when we left that bathroom. How could I _not_ think that you were ashamed of me?"

Santana fought the tears that were forming on the edges of her eyes. "Brittany, I wasn't ashamed of you." Brittany scoffed again. "No listen," she brought a hand up to pull her chin back towards her face so that she could look her in the eyes, "I was not ashamed of you. I was ashamed of her. Of that woman. I couldn't stay there and watch her say bad things about you."

"Why does it matter what she was saying? I didn't care," Brittany argued.

"Yeah well I did. I didn't want to stay there and watch someone judge you, and not be able to do anything about it."

Brittany thought about her words for a minute before breathing out a tiny sigh of frustration, "You could have done something about it."

"No I couldn't." The finality in her words was shocking. Brittany wasn't used to the defeat laced within them, or at least not from Santana. "I'm sorry Brittany, I really am. I feel terrible because I messed up our date," the word coming from her mouth was surprisingly uplifting despite their current situation, "and I hate that were always going to remember such awful things about that night."

Brittany felt the sincerity in Santana's words and couldn't help but feel the lifting distance between them. The part of her that wanted to keep the girl as far away from her as she could was gone and she reached out an arm, pulling Santana to a seat next to her. "I'm sorry too."

She felt Santana furrow her brow against her shoulder, "Why are you sorry?"

"For being so distant and not giving you a chance to explain. I didn't really look at anything from your side." Brittany rested her head down on top of Santana's.

"You shouldn't have had to. This was all my fault," Santana said calmly.

Brittany shook her head which in turn shook Santana's, eliciting a tiny laugh. "Let's just forget it, okay S?"

"Only if you're okay with that," Santana answered and waited for herto respond.

"I am. I missed you too much. Artie's mom never lets me get ice cream."

Santana laughed at the randomness of the comment but then was reminded of the fact that now Artie was in the picture and realized that knowing Brittany, he probably wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sometimes I just want to end on a happy note but alas it escapes me. Next chapter that is my goal. You will have nice feelings at the closing. **

**Challenge! I was writing the a/n at the beginning of this and i tried to think of a combo of Leroy and Santana's names so I could reference them like that cause I'm gonna try to put little confrontations between them in all throughout this story cause they extremely entertain me to write. You should totally make suggestions for the name. Not really for any reason, but just because I'm curious what you could come up with since I have literally nothing. Anyways. **

**Thanks for ****and review if you feel so inclined :)**


	22. a win for all of us

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: This is Special Education essentially and a few days before it. I didn't sleep last night, and stayed up writing this. I couldn't stop lol. Anyways there's a significant amount of Faberry this chapter, but there's also more significant Brittana parts as well. I know this is a Brittana fic, but you know this chapter had a lot more potential for Faberry stuff so I went with it. This is also the first time we see Faberrittana interactions! First of many.  
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**gleeknumber1-See, I told you :) I prefer them together, even if they have angsty insides lol  
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**Breakdown6-Damn I'm so torn between Sanletanroya and Letana. They are both so good! I'm not gonna write an extensive amount of Bartie, unlike Tommy and Santana (which I only did cause I was trying to develop some of Santana's emotional stuff), just because I don't really care much about them. I mean they are important, but I'm not gonna spend a lot of time telling their story. And I know right? Artie's moms a bitch ;)  
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**laucha****-why thank you:) Thank you for reading!**

**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! Glad you're all enjoying it!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

**Forewarning: There is an obscure reference, and a name you're probably not gonna be able to pronounce, but it's explained like 30 seconds later so...yeah...just letting you know.**

* * *

><p>A loud buzzing next to Rachel's head startled her awake. <em>'What time is it?'<em> she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands and sat up against her headboard. With a glance to her window she could tell there was no way it could have even been past 6 in the morning and let out a loud groan of frustration. Her phone beeped again, her she had a text message.

**(5:30 AM) Quinn: **Do you want to go for a run?

The words were blurry through sleep-filled eyes and she read it a couple more times to make sure she understood it correctly. Barely moving her fingers, Rachel typed a tiny response.

**(5:33 AM): **What?

Instantly her phone buzzed again.

**(5:33 AM) Quinn:** I was pretty sure that text was self explanatory ;) however I will repeat myself. Would you, Rachel Berry, like to go, for a run? That thing you do when you put two feet in front of each really fast?

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the screen but then remembered Quinn couldn't see her. She was awake now, if only for the frustration that text gave her.

**(5:34 AM): **You may think that's cute, but it actually is really annoying when you wake someone up.

**(5:34 AM) Quinn: **I still didn't get an answer...

**(5:35 AM): **Yes I would love to go for a run with someone who purposely annoys me at 5 in the morning. I just woke up Quinn.

**(5:35 AM) Quinn:** So what I got out of that text was a yes, so I will wait out here while you get ready :)

Rachel frowned at the text message. _'What does she mean "out here"_?_**' **_With a shrug, she climbed out of bed and walked towards her dresser to find her exercise clothes. On the way she caught a glance out of her window and saw Quinn stretching on the curb in front of her house.

She realized Quinn must have already been on her way when she texted her and it was a little alarming that she had just assumed Rachel would say yes. She knew Quinn liked to go for runs almost every morning, but this was the first time she had decided to include her in one of them.

Her thoughts were cut off when without hesitation Quinn leaned over to stretch towards the ground with her back to the window. Rachel couldn't help but admire Quinn's…backside…that she, for the first time, had found herself quite captivated with. Her eyes trailed down the girl's lean legs that were toned from years of cheerleading and dance.

Before she could catch herself, Quinn turned around and looked up towards the Berry house, and her eyes locked with Rachel's. Rachel stumbled backwards and she felt her body flush with embarrassment.

Stumbling into her clothes, Rachel didn't see Quinn smirking in her front yard.

* * *

><p>"Can we…take a break?" Quinn yelled ahead through panting breaths. When they first started, she kept herself at a much faster pace and found it incredibly endearing watching Rachel try to keep up. What she didn't expect, was that after 3 hours of running non-stop, Rachel would finally find her groove and end up giving her a run for her money, <em>literally. <em>

Rachel circled backwards around Quinn and continued to run slow ovals around her. "Oh, is someone… having a hard time… keeping up?" Rachel joked through labored breaths. She was trying to hide her exhaustion, but was failing miserably. _'If she's gonna wake me up at 5:30 then she can suffer," _Rachel thought before racing ahead once again.

Quinn stopped in place. Her arms came to rest up on her sides and she clenched the pain she wasn't used to feeling. She was in shape, her countless runs—and crunches and lunges—before school, during Cheerio's practice, and on the weekends made sure of that. But she never pushed herself this much. _'Maybe I shouldn't have pushed so hard when we started," _Quinn thought, inwardly face-palming herself.

Rachel hadn't really noticed the lack of footsteps behind her until she was four or five houses away. Turning around, she came to a halt and shook her head playfully at Quinn who smirked back at her. Retracing her steps, Rachel fought her numb legs to manage the rest of the way.

"Quitting so easily?" her strained voice betrayed her and Quinn laughed a little.

"You sound like you're about ready too." Resting sweaty palms on her thighs and hunching over, the she breathed out, "How much longer were you gonna keep at it? Until you passed out?"

Rachel shook her head, "I wouldn't have passed out, I was just trying to see if you would."

Quinn stood up straight and looked at Rachel in disbelief, "Really Rach? That's just cruel."

Shrugging her shoulders, she let a tiny smile appear on her face. Quinn returned the gesture and shook her head. She started walking and Rachel followed next to her. "Let's go Pheidippides, we're closer to my house. We can get a change of—"

"Excuse me?" Rachel cut her off and stopped walking again.

"What?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow and tried to hold back a laugh. "What did you just call me?"

"Umm…Pheidippides?" Quinn fought the tiny blush in her cheeks.

"Yeah that would be the one." Rachel didn't fight her laugh this time. "Going to explain that one?"

Quinn twisted her neck away and tried to hide her ever-reddening cheeks. "Umm…no?"

"Quinn Fabray. Tell me!"

A sigh was the only warning Rachel heard before Quinn swung around forcefully, "_Pheidippides_…was the Greek messenger of the gods. Long story short, he ran for a really long time without resting." Her face burned as the words poured of her mouth so naturally and she watched the puzzled expression on her companion's face go unchanging. "Satisfied?" She tried to hold back the bite in her voice but the way Rachel flinched showed her that she failed.

"I…so…I guess I am safe in assuming you still read any book you can get your hands on?" Rachel asked simply and started walking again.

Sighing, Quinn followed her and matched her stride. "Yes you are. I keep forgetting you knew me before…well all of this." She motioned to herself in a wide sweeping motion.

Rachel smiled and instinctively wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist. The motion was innocent, but she immediately regretted it. Quinn tensed up when Rachel's hand came into contact with her side, but sensing the awkwardness that would follow if she dropped her arm immediately, Rachel kept it in place for a few seconds longer and spoke, "You're not as different as you think you are."

Quinn craned her neck to the left and looked down at Rachel with an appreciative smile. "Thanks Rachel."

They walked a few more steps before Quinn stopped them once again; Rachel's hand stayed in place. "You know, you're not as intense as everyone thinks you are."

"Is that a compliment?" Rachel teased and Quinn smiled.

"Kind of." She started them walking again, "I just mean, I like it when you're not so high strung. It's nice to see you be calm and collected."

Rachel blushed a little, "Well, thanks. Maybe I'll try it more often." They smiled genuinely at each other.

Her arm dropped as they neared the Fabray's, and Rachel followed Quinn into the house. They traipsed up the stairs and moved quickly into Quinn's bedroom. Unlike her own bedroom, Quinn's was nothing like she remembered. The formerly stunning pink and yellow walls were now a cool teal that mellowed her out the second she stepped foot inside. She felt a little bit of the tension in her body drift away and trailed her eyes over to watch Quinn dig through her dressers. "So I guess you really don't like pink anymore?" she teased and saw a tiny smile form on the side of her face.

"Nothing gets past you…" she said without missing a beat and pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a yellow t-shirt that she tossed towards her. "Here, you can take a shower if you want."

Rachel looked down at the clothes in her hands and realized she was missing a few crucial articles of clothing. When she glanced back up, the grin on her friend's face told her she knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You still have some clean stuff from when you slept here a few weeks ago." She stuck her thumb out behind her towards a fluffy pink bag that Rachel recognized immediately as hers. "I figured you really wouldn't want me digging through _those_."

Rachel's face turned bright red and she marched over to the bag if only to hide her embarrassment. "Er…thanks." She pulled out the first bra and pair of underwear she could find before burying them within Quinn's clothes. "I'll be quick," she muttered and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

After she adjusted the hot and cold to an appropriate temperature, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She ran her fingers of the labels of shampoo and picked the one that looked like it had been least used. Opening it she took in a tiny breath and smelt something entirely Quinn. She couldn't place the scent for her life, and she proceeded to apply a small amount of it to her scalp.

Suddenly the door creaked open and Rachel let out a tiny yelp. "Quinn?" She yelled out and immediately moved to cover herself, even though the dark shower curtain blocked out any visible parts.

"Yeah. Sorry!" Quinn chuckled awkwardly. "I didn't want to bother you, or freak you out or something but Brittany just texted me and asked if I wanted to join her and Santana at the Lima Bean to get some coffee."

Rachel furrowed her brow, "Why are you telling me?"

Quinn chuckled again, "I'm asking you if you want to go with me."

"Why?" Rachel pulled back the curtain to expose her face and her eyes landed on the blonde mess of hair only sticking a few inches through the doorway.

Hazel eyes locked with brown and Quinn squinted through the tiny, steam-filled room, "What do you mean why? Because we're hanging out and I don't want to ditch you. Are you coming or not?" She let a little of the frustration seep into her tone.

"Well I guess when you ask me so nicely how can I refuse?" Rachel teased and Quinn stuck her tongue out.

"Hurry up then smart-ass. I still need to get in there." Quinn closed the door.

Rachel pulled her head back in and ran it under the water, rinsing out the soapy curls. _'A day out with Quinn, Brittany, __**and**__ Santana, what could possibly go wrong?' _Rachel mused, reaching for the bottle of conditioner.

* * *

><p>"How long have we been waiting?" Santana stood up out of her chair and raked her eyes over the parking lot; Quinn and Rachel were nowhere to be seen.<p>

Brittany grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back down. "Not that long. Just calm down." Santana huffed and crossed her arms. "It's not like we have to be anywhere to be. Why are you freaking out so much?"

Santana picked up her drink and took a long sip before returning her stare to the shimmering blue eyes surveying her every move. "I'm just not too _excited_ about Berry coming along." She dropped her face into a tiny pout, "I didn't even really want Quinn to come. Couldn't it just be you and me today? We still have time. We could go out the back. I did park back there for a reason." She raised her eyebrows and smiled trying to convince Brittany, who only shook her head disapprovingly.

"No, Santana. We can't leave our friends because I miss them, and because I want to spend time with them, _including_ Rachel, and mostly because they are already here." Brittany tilted her head towards the entrance where the two girls walked in and waved before going up to order their drinks.

Santana let out a heavy breath and dropped her forehead to the arm she had resting on the table. Her groan only made Brittany laugh and reach a hand over to run fingers through the dark hair spread around her head on the table. The fingers scraping lightly against her scalp sent shivers through her body and she never wanted them to stop. As two pairs of footsteps approached, the sensation stopped and she assumed they were no longer alone.

A loud voice next to her head confirmed it, "Looks like someone needs more coffee."

Lifting herself off of the table, Santana smirked at Quinn, "Ever funny with the wit Fabray."

The two girls took a seat at the table and Quinn pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders, "Eh, what can I say. It just comes naturally."

"That's what she said." Santana grinned at the tiny grimace on Rachel's face. "Aw Berry, didn't mean to offend."

Rachel shook her head and plastered a fake smile on her face. She was fighting how uncomfortable this situation made her. Sure, she and Santana had gotten along on a few occasions when they were _alone_ together, but this was an entirely different story. In public, Santana tended to keep her insults up to par and she didn't really know what to expect even with Quinn and Brittany at the table.

Santana turned to Quinn, "What'd you do to her?" Quinn quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "You made Rachel mute. Please tell me how you found this wonderful solution."

"Shut up Santana." Quinn glared at her friend and dared her to continue. Santana may've scared a lot of people, but she wasn't one of them.

Before she got a chance to respond, Brittany cut her off, "Seriously San, just stop. Try to be nice."

Santana moved her glare from Quinn to Brittany's stern face and she dropped it immediately. She sighed, "Fine." Brittany raised her eyebrows and nodded very slightly towards Rachel. With a groan, she turned her head one last time. "Sorry Berry."

Timidly, Rachel let out a tiny, "It's fine Santana." A small, quivering smile barely reinforced her point but it got them far enough ahead for Brittany to change the subject.

"So what were you guys up to today?" She asked and watched the silent exchange between them, figuring out who was going to speak.

Quinn spoke first, "We went for a run this morning."

"Oh well that sounds like fun!" Brittany exclaimed. She would normally have been sad Quinn hadn't invited her, but she figured since Rachel was the alternative, she would let it go.

Santana had finally gotten over her scolding enough to ask, "Wait, Berry went for a run? Could she even keep up?"

Rachel shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat and felt a tiny amount of anger raise to her cheeks. She suppressed it when Quinn started speaking again.

"Actually, _Rachel_, wasn't the one who couldn't keep up. I think I'm losing my touch," she joked. Brittany laughed a little and leaned over to nudge Santana.

"Look you might have found yourself some competition," Brittany chuckled. Initially Santana was the slowest and least athletic of the three of them. Unknown to Quinn and Brittany, she had been working non-stop for years to change that and ended up being the quickest out of all of them. They assumed she had just progressed naturally, and were unaware of the countless hours she had put into fixing, what she saw as, one of her biggest flaws.

"Maybe we could get you two to race one day," Quinn suggested and looked at Rachel who only smiled in response.

Santana turned away and decided she was done with that portion of the conversation. Brittany looked awkwardly between her and Quinn who rolled her eyes.

Brittany grasped through her thoughts for a topic that could pull attention from everyone at the table. "So…Sectionals is coming up right?" All three nodded their heads absently. She internally sighed, "And Mr. Schue said he's featuring Quinn and Sam right?" Once again they nodded their heads, but this time Quinn and Rachel's picked up with a little vigor. It gave Brittany a little more confidence, "And Santana, didn't you say he asked you if you wanted a solo?" Santana finally turned back towards the table.

"Yeah, Valerie," she said shortly and Rachel's face lit up.

"Your voice would be perfect for that Santana." The compliment came out of nowhere and Quinn and Santana's faces scrunched together in confusion.

Brittany wasn't going to let the conversation stop now, so she smiled broadly at Santana, "I totally agree. I mean I think you're voice is perfect for everything, but if Rachel says it, then it must be true."

Rachel grinned and nodded eagerly. Quinn let out a tiny chuckle, "Can't argue with you there Britt. Or with Rachel for that matter."

Santana still stared at Rachel, "You're not mad?"

Rachel dropped her smile and shook her head seriously, "No."

"But you freaked out the other day in the choir room when he told everybody. You're telling me now you don't care?" Brittany reached over and put a pale hand over dark skin to remind Santana to keep it civil.

Rachel shook her head again, "No, I'm happy that I'm getting a chance to relax." She turned to smile slightly at Quinn, "Trying to not be so…_intense_." Quinn rolled her eyes and their inside joke went unnoticed by their friends.

"Let me, on behalf of the entire glee club, no wait, the entire world, take a moment to say, 'Thank you.'" Santana joked and it was the first time the words were delivered with no edge.

"Way to ruin a nice moment, S," Brittany teased and they all laughed together.

Rachel took in the smiling faces around her and realized that maybe, for the first time, she was actually fitting in. She looked at Quinn, who had just caught her eyes, and mouthed a silent 'thank you.' Her eyebrows pulled together and she silently asked, "For what?" Rachel shook her head and started listening to Brittany ramble on about why the tables there, were not called 'coffee-tables,' and then Santana struggling to explain it to her.

Xx

Brittany plopped down into the passenger seat of Santana's car and pulled the seatbelt down across her body. "See, that wasn't that bad."

Santana shut her door and twisted the key in the ignition. "Not _that_ bad. But I swear, when she started comparing the differences between our voices, I might've wanted to hit her."

"But I'm glad you didn't," Brittany laughed and leaned over the console placing an indirect kiss to the side of Santana's mouth. She froze and then slowly pulled her face backwards. Santana made no attempt to hide the shock on her face.

Tension started to grow in the tiny car as minutes passed without words. They just stared at each other mutely, unsure of what to say. This was the first times since their fight that anything like it had happened. The both of them were entirely aware of that fact, and their minds raced trying to figure out what had changed, if anything.

After another quiet minute, Santana reached her hand up and turned the car off. Her hand visibly shook while it returned to her lap. She loudly cleared her throat before turning to face Brittany, "Umm…do I even have to ask?"

Brittany shook her head, "I don't know what that was. It just happened."

"Just happened," Santana repeated mindlessly and started tapping her fingers unconsciously against her leg. "That's just…you know…the firs—"

"First time that we've 'kissed'," she raised her fingers making air quotes, "since it happened, yeah I know."

"And?" Santana questioned. She had no idea where they were headed and hoped Brittany had some sort of clue.

Brittany sighed, "Like I said, I don't know. It just happened."

"That doesn't just happen, Britt. You either want it to or you don't." Santana tried to sound calm, but the nervousness pervasively invaded her words.

In a very quiet voice, Brittany managed, "I'm with Artie now San."

The words crashed into Santana's chest like a hammer was pounding relentlessly against her ribcage. All of the wind was knocked out of her lungs and she had no idea what to say. She wanted to slam her door open and run; run as far away as her legs would carry her. But there she sat, glued to her seat and waiting for Brittany to release her.

"But that doesn't mean we have to stop." Brittany's words caught her off guard. Santana expected a little of her happiness to return, but instead the emptiness was replaced with a sickness. Guilt. And she didn't know where it was coming from.

"What do you mean?" she breathed out. Brittany reached across the console and grabbed a hold of her hand. Expected butterflies morphed, instead, into cruel spiders, scratching across her insides. She didn't know what this feeling was, but she hated it, and prayed for Brittany's warmth to take it away. But the longer the pale hand grasped hers, the farther it spread.

"Sex, or kissing I guess, isn't dating right?" Santana raised her eyebrows at Brittany who gave her an awkward smile and continued, "It's not cheating then. Cause we aren't really together."

"Right," Santana muttered and turned her head away a little. A hand caught her chin and her head was being pulled back in the direction of Brittany, who leaned in and captured her lips in a firmer kiss. The sweet taste of Brittany's lips seemed to alleviate a little bit of the turmoil going on in her body and she let a tiny smile on her face.

Brittany pulled away and stared straight ahead with an unsure smile on her face. "Alright then, let's go."

Santana dropped her eyes and turned the key in the ignition once more before pulling out of the parking lot. She tried to fight the distracting thoughts out of her mind, and was only successful when Brittany's hand reached over once again and laced their fingers together. Santana focused solely on the feel of Brittany's hand in her own, and let the rest fade away for however long she could manage.

* * *

><p>Finn stormed through the green room towards Rachel and caught her by the arm, earning a few startled glances from their surrounding glee club members. "I need to talk to you."<p>

"Great. Because I need to talk to you too," Rachel said firmly and tugged her arm out of his grasp.

Finn narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you pissed? I'm the one who should be pissed."

She chuckled humorlessly, "Oh really? You're the one who's supposed to be pissed? When were you going to tell me about Santana, Finn?"

His anger morphed into shame, knowing he had finally been caught. "Who…who told you?"

"Who told me?" Rachel yelled and the room fell silent, watching to two go at it. Santana hovered against a nearby wall once she heard her name mentioned. Brittany watched from across the room, and gave an uneasy smile to her best friend. Quinn braced herself on the couch, against Sam, who couldn't tear his eyes away from the fight. She knew her first instinct would be to lunge at Finn if he made a move at Rachel, but she figured it made more sense to push Sam forward to stop any impending physical blow, if it resulted in that. Realizing how stupid the idea was, she sat back the tiniest bit.

Rachel stomped her foot and yelled again, "You're not even going to deny it? And _who told me_ is your only concern?"

Finn looked around at all of the staring faces, trying to decipher which one told her. "Look, it was before we were even together. Why does it matter?"

"It matters, because I asked you, and you flat out lied to me. Trust is kind of important to a relationship Finn." She was fighting back tears, and the only way she knew how to do that was to get angry.

"Oh really? _Trust_ is important Rachel? Like how I trusted you to _not_ make out with Puck?" Finn advanced a step and tried to intimidate her with his stature.

Rachel's eyes darted to look at Puck who raised his arms, "What? I didn't tell him."

"No, I told him." Sam's voice rang out and earned confused glances from everyone in the room. "Sorry I overheard you two," he motioned between Puck and Rachel, "talking on the bus earlier and I couldn't keep it from him."

"But apparently you could," Finn continued. Rachel drew her attention back to him and shook her head.

"It was a mistake," Rachel said softly, "I found out about Santana and I wanted to get back at you. I'm sorry Finn."

"No, it's not okay this time Rachel." He stumbled backwards away and out of the room. Rachel ran to the nearest bathroom already fighting tears. Quinn quickly stood from her place on the couch and followed her.

Brittany walked across the room and leaned against the wall next to Santana who looked absently ahead at nothing, "Are you okay?"

Santana nodded her head a little too eagerly, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Brittany raised an eyebrow. "Seriously B, I'm fine."

Brittany nodded her head a few times and whispered, "I wonder who told her about you two."

Santana tensed up a little and twisted around, putting her right shoulder into the wall. "I did."

"_You_? Why?" Brittany questioned her, eyes shifting around making sure no one was listening to their conversation.

Santana nodded her head, "Yeah. I caught her a couple of days ago in the bathroom and told her."

"Why would you do that, San?" Brittany questioned her and moved in closer.

Santana dropped her voice, "She shouldn't be with him. He's terrible to her. I was doing them a favor."

Brittany scrunched her face together, "That's a really awful favor. Neither of them is happy now."

Santana shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I was doing _them_ a favor." She pointed over her shoulder.

Brittany turned around and watched Rachel and Quinn making a silent entrance from the bathroom. Rachel's eyes were puffy and red and Quinn's skin sparkled on her shoulder with what Brittany could only assume were ignored tear drops. As they sat on the couch, Quinn had her arm draped around the Rachel's shoulders, and Rachel had her arm around Quinn's waist.

'_Oh…'_ Brittany's face turned into a bittersweet smile.

* * *

><p>"Britt! You were amazing!" Santana squealed across the stage and engulfed her in a tight hug.<p>

Brittany picked her up off the ground and twirled her around, before a protest demanded she be returned to the floor. "Are you kidding? You were the amazing on San! You sounded so good!"

"Well, what else is new?" Santana teased and earned herself a tiny shove. "Seriously though, we're going to win. And it's because of us." A tiny cough behind Brittany made her chuckle, "Us _and_ Mike." Mike leaned around a placed a small celebratory kiss to Brittany's cheek before he ran off to claim Tina in a bear hug. "Gees, anybody thinks they can just come up and kiss you. Are they trying to make me jealous?"

Brittany smirked as Quinn and Sam ran past them towards Artie at the other end of the stage, "I don't know. Is it working?"

Santana walked a few steps closer. "Maybe," she teased.

Brittany closed the remaining gap between them, "Obviously not well enough." She leaned in and glanced around them to make sure no one was watching. Everyone seemed occupied enough, so she closed the tiny distance between their faces and gave Santana the tiniest kiss. Santana pulled back instantly, but smiled heartily at Brittany.

"Oh my god babe! You were so good." Artie came up behind Santana, and the two girls were so happy for his timing. Santana turned around and gave him an enthusiastic high five and started to walk away over towards Puck and Lauren who were trying to smash one of the band guy's guitars. Deep down she knew what her and Brittany were doing was wrong, but who was she to question something that made her feel so right.

**Xx**

Rachel was one of the last people walking towards the bus, since she had stayed behind in case anyone wanted her autograph. Sure, she was young, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be worth something one day. She figured there had to be at least one person in the audience who would recognize her talent.

Climbing onto the bus she saw the only empty seat was in the far back and passed all of her friends who were still giddy off of their high from winning. She caught sight of Finn grinning with Mike and it broke her heart when he made no attempt to look at her. Rachel shuffled to the back and finally sat down in her seat; Sam was directly in front of her and to her surprise Quinn was nowhere in sight.

Mr. Schuester climbed up the stairs and looked over the seats, counting heads. "Is everyone here?" He called out.

A soft voice from the bottom of the steps yelled, "Nope, one more!" Quinn bounded eagerly into the aisle way and made her way to the back of the bus. When she moved her eyes past a smiling Sam, she caught sight of Rachel staring out of the window. She walked right past her boyfriend and dropped into the seat next to her.

Rachel was startled to see Quinn and couldn't contain her smile. "Well, hello Quinn."

"Hello Rachel." Quinn beamed and wrapped her arms around Rachel. "Aren't you happy we won?"

Rachel sighed and pulled away, "Of course I am." She glanced over to where Finn was engaged in an intense thumb war with Lauren. Quinn caught her line of sight and directed attention back to herself. "Why wouldn't I be?" she said dryly.

"Hey, don't let him kill your buzz. You should be happy. We're going to Regional's, and that's one step closer to Nationals." Quinn smiled again and Rachel couldn't help but return her excitement.

She smacked Quinn lightly on the arm, "If anyone should be happy it should be you! You killed that duet."

Quinn blushed at the compliment, "It wasn't just me."

Rachel shook her head, "No, Sam was good too. But you…you were just wonderful Quinn."

Startling Rachel, Quinn moved closer yet again and kissed her lightly on the cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.

When she pulled back, Rachel stared at her in confusion, but the smile never left her face.

Quinn picked herself up off of the bench and started to back out, "You would have been better." With that she moved one seat ahead to sit with Sam.

Rachel reached her hand up and brushed the spot where Quinn's lips had met the delicate skin of her cheek and decided against ignoring the pleasant burn it was spreading through her face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey that was happy right? For both couples? I tried at least. **

**Something wouldn't let me allow Rachel to call Quinn's ass, her 'ass'. So that's where 'backside' came from...just saying. I mean if it were Santana that would be a different story...rambles...  
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**I'm going to bed now. Thanks for reading:) **

**Review if you feel like it, they're always appreciated :D**


	23. you better not pout

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Alright I friggin love Christmas so this chapter is super long. Those of you who love AU storylines, well, you're welcome. **Lots of Brittana fluff, a little seriousness, and then even more fluff.** This 'Holiday' chapter is completely separate from the actual episode, and after a lot of consideration I chose a completely AU path for Faberry. Also, did I mention I love Christmas? Since I don't know if I'll update again before the holidays are over, I'd like to wish you all happy holidays! and happy new year! if not and I'm back before then, then nevermind! :)  
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**rosswellmorgana-Thank you! I'm glad to hear someone got it right off the bat. I used to be huge geek when it came to Ancient Greece, so I have a bunch of random little facts hidden away in my mind that pop out occasionally like that haha  
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**Breakdown6-You can only review once per chapter? Boo! I was not aware of that lol Thank you! I chose the typical whipped!Santana character trait :) Would you believe me if I told you I knew _exactly_ how hard it is to do that? I read it on my phone or my computer sometimes when I'm getting ready :P  
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**Minerva McBadass-****Thank you :)) Two or three days later was soon right? right? ;)  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! I love that you're all still enjoying it!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>'<em>Please...Please...Please,'<em> Brittany sat on the edge of her bed watching the bottom of the screen waiting for the tiny script to pass by. Remote in hand, fingers both crossed and eyes bugging out of her head, at last '_MCKINLEY HIGH SCHOOL—CLOSED' _lit up the banner on her television and Brittany leapt from her seat screaming, "Yes!"

She ran to her door and ripped it open, and it thudded heavily against the wall. Ignoring the dark hallway and silent house Brittany yelled, "Snow day!" She skipped down the hallway and stood in front of her sister's bedroom door that was cracked open the tiniest bit, "_You_ still have school, but guess what?" Christine's eyes darted open at the loud question and she glared at her sister angrily. "I have a snow day," Brittany sang dramatically and her sister whipped a pillow at the door, effectively shutting it.

Pouting at her sister's actions, Brittany didn't notice her father traipsing sleepily into the hallway, until he flipped on the light switch. "Britt?" he groaned, "I know you're excited, but it's five in the morning. Please go back to bed." Tony walked a little farther out and kissed his daughter lightly on the temple.

Her pout disappeared and she hugged him tightly. "Okay daddy. Love you."

"Love you too honey." He gave her shoulder one final squeeze and retreated into his bedroom.

Brittany slipped back into her room and closed the door a lot quieter than she opened it. On her way back to her bed, the floorboards creaked and to silence the noise, when she got closer, she leapt into her warm blankets and burrowed under the heavy comforter. She reached over and grabbed her phone from the side table where it was still charging and quickly found Santana's number.

**(5:13 AM): **We have a snow day! So don't wake up yet, or else you'll be grumpy. No one likes grumpy San :)

Dropping the phone to the bed, Brittany snuggled into her pillow and let her eyes drift shut. A few minutes later a vibration kicked her out of her light sleep and she found her phone. She smirked when she realized she had two messages.

**(5:15 AM) San: **If you didn't want me to wake up, texting was not a good idea ;)

**(5:15 AM) San: **And also, you like me always :)

Brittany laughed and sat back up in her bed against the headboard.

**(5:16 AM): **Sorry :( And, yes I do :)

**(5:16 AM) San: **Don't be. And that's what I thought.

A large yawn made her drop her phone onto her lap and she quickly scrambled to pick it up.

**(5:17 AM): **I think you should come over.

Long minutes passed and Brittany assumed Santana had fallen back asleep. She started to shuffle back down into her blankets when the device buzzed against her wrist.

**(5:31 AM) San:** You know they give us off school for an actual reason right? The roads are terrible B.

Brittany's bottom lip jutted out involuntarily and she typed a response.

**(5:32 AM): **I know, I just really wanted to see you...

**(5:43 AM) San:** I know...that's why I'm walking up your front porch.

Grinning ear to ear, she heard the door downstairs click open. She stretched over to one side of the bed and readied the other side while hearing tiny footsteps up the wooden staircase. Her head dropped back onto the pillow and her door crept slowly open. Santana wore red, plaid pajamas tucked into her tan boots. She dropped her heavy bubble coat drop to the floor and revealed a large black t-shirt. After seeing this through squinted eyelids, Brittany shut her eyes tight and pretended to be asleep.

Santana tiptoed over to the bed and smiled at Brittany who was very obviously not sleeping. Playing along, she gripped the blankets on the empty side of the bed and pulled them back before kicking her boots off and sliding into the already warm covers. She saw long strips of blonde hair flowing easily over Brittany's face and slid them back with one gentle finger. Brittany couldn't contain the tiny scrunch of her nose and Santana smirked knowing how hard she was trying to not smile. Santana continued to trace her fingers across the smooth skin of Brittany's cheek. She trailed them down and around her jaw before removing them completely and watching Brittany's brow furrow.

Santana leaned in and whispered softly, "You're very bad at pretending to be asleep."

A smile slowly formed on Brittany's mouth and her upper lip pulled back to expose shining teeth. With her voice just as low, she asked, "Why'd you stop?"

Wordlessly, Santana started running her left fingers over Brittany's cheek again. The hand drifted down her smooth face, dropping to her neck and slowly moved across her shoulder. When her fingers met the strap of Brittany's white tank-top, she slowly edged it down and onto her arm. She whispered again, "It's kind of in the way." Brittany's grin grew. Her fingers resumed their path and when she met the sharp bone of the girl's shoulder, she moved back across the goose bump ridden skin and flowed easily back up Brittany's neck and light fingers drifted onto her face again. Her eyes had been following her own fingers, so when she reached Brittany's face she saw bright blue eyes twinkling at her in adoration.

Santana leaned down and brushed her lips lightly over Brittany's in the smallest of kisses. She pulled back and waited for blue eyes to reopen before greeting softly, "Good Morning."

"That's an understatement," Brittany remarked and wrapped both arms around Santana, pulling her tight against her chest. "Thanks. I thought you fell asleep."

Santana chuckled, "And miss a morning of getting my cuddle on? I don't think so." She sighed into Brittany's chest and felt herself getting tired in the warm embrace. "Do you mind if we go back to sleep?"

Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head. "Of course not." She felt the girl go a little slack in her arms after a few minutes and knew Santana had fallen asleep. Resting her head against the smooth dark hair beneath her chin, she let herself drift off. At the last second, fighting through her sleepy haze, she reached over and clicked off the alarm clock.

'_This is going to bed the best snow day ever,'_ was her last thought before she her heavy lids fell shut.

* * *

><p>Bitter cold sheets rustled beneath Santana's feet and she tried to pull them as close to her body as she could. She scooted backwards, searching for Brittany's warmth, but was only met with a much smaller figure that hissed angrily at her.<p>

"Aah!" she rolled off of the bed trying to distance herself from the animal. '_Stupid cat,'_ she thought simultaneously rubbing her shoulder where it had connected with the hard floor. "You're lucky she loves you, otherwise I'd have taken someone on a long trip to the shelter by now." Her eyes drifted over to the alarm clock that read _10:_26 and realized Brittany must have been awake for hours while she lazily slept the day away. Santana stood up and straightened out her hair that was sticking up in all different directions before deciding, with a sigh, to just pull it back in a ponytail. _'I wear it like this 5 out of 7 days of the week, what's one more day,'_ she secured it and walked out of Brittany's bedroom.

On the last few steps, she caught sight of Brittany sitting perched on the couch eating a bowl of cereal with her legs crossed underneath her. Her eyes were glued to the Tom and Jerry cartoon on the television and Santana figured she hadn't heard her approaching. Taking advantage of that fact, she walked on her toes trying to silence her footsteps to make her way up behind her. She was nearing her target, but before she could take the final two steps, she was stopped in her tracks.

"You know, I always wanted to get Lord Tubbington another cat to play with, but maybe he'd rather a mouse." Santana could hear the smile in her voice. "Good try S."

Santana hung her shoulders in defeat and walked the last few steps before vaulting over the back of the couch and landing next to Brittany, who held her bowl up high so none of it would spill. "How'd you know?"

The corners of Brittany's mouth turned up, "I'm psychotic."

Santana chuckled, "I think you mean psychic."

Brittany ignored her mistake and continued, "But it only works with you."

"What do you mean?" Santana grabbed the bowl from her hands and brought a bite of Fruity Pebbles to her mouth.

"I just always know when you're around. I can feel you." Brittany reached over and wiped a tiny drop of milk off of her face.

Santana started to blush furiously at her word choice. The cool touch of Brittany's finger electrified her skin and it only deepened the flush on her cheeks.

"You okay?" she asked, looking concerned at Santana's speechlessness.

"Y-yeah, just still a little tired." She handed the bowl back and saw Brittany's phone on the table and an idea struck her. "So, did Sylvester issue a mandatory practice yet?" The other girl shook her head. "I'm surprised."

Sitting the bowl down on the table, Brittany asked, "Why? Do you want us to have practice?"

"No, it's just…we're like the frickin postal service." Brittany tilted her head to the side, "You know, 'Rain or Shine.'"

Brittany shook her head again, a few of the blonde strands of hair crowded her face, "We don't deliver mail?"

Santana smiled, "I know. I was just sayin we always have practice."

Brittany's eyes widened, "You have to practice to be a mailman?"

Santana held back her chuckle, but her smile widened, "Nevermind Britt." Santana leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. She loved being able to just do that again whenever she felt like it. Any of the complicated feelings seemed to have just faded into the background and it made everything less confusing. Things had started to get back to normal.

Brittany pulled back and grinned, "So I made a list of all the things we have to do today." Santana groaned and dropped her head back against the deep cushion. "Come on, why aren't you excited?"

"It's a snow day B, we're supposed to lay in bed all day and relax. You know. _Do nothing_." She tried to convince her but Brittany defiantly shook her head.

"No, please San. This was supposed to be our last day before Christmas break, so now we can start early. We have to do all of the Christmas stuff." Brittany patted her leg insistently through her speech. "Come on. Please." She pouted and lowered her head. "Please Sani. _Please_."

Santana sighed heavily, "Ugh, what's 'Christmas stuff'?"

Blue-eyes shot up happily and a smirk replaced the pout, "Snowball fights, snowmen, hot chocolate, shopping for presents, decorating, making lists for Santa," Santana's mouth quivered but she resisted a smile, "ice-skating, I don't know, stuff like that."

"B, we have an entire break for all of that," Santana complained and let her head fall forward against Brittany's shoulder. She buried her face against the dark sweatshirt she was wearing and breathed in the scent.

"I know, and we don't have to do it all today." She pushed Santana back. "So pick 3 things."

Rolling her eyes, she thought about the possible options. She hated the cold, but she also knew Brittany loved being outside in the snow, "Snowmen," Brittany smiled, "umm…then hot chocolate," Santana knew this was an easy pick because they would be drinking hot chocolate if she had any say about it after being outside long enough to make a snowman, "and how about…ice-skating. The rink should be pretty empty today since everyone will be at work."

Brittany bounced happily in her seat. "Let's go!" She jumped up and grabbed Santana's hand pulling her forward towards the stairs.

After they got dressed, Brittany raced out the front door and leapt gracefully into the large pile of snow. When she reached the bottom of the steps, Santana took a detour to the kitchen and grabbed a carrot out of the refrigerator. Then, Santana followed Brittany outside, tossed the vegetable aside, and dropped onto the ground next to her. Brittany started making a snow angel and furiously swatted at her arms. "Move over! I don't have enough room."

"Rude." Santana scoffed and moved over. She turned on her side and was grateful for the comfort of her oversized jacket. Brittany continued forming her imprint in the snow and eventually stood up.

"Okay, it's done. Come look." Santana scrambled to her feet and looked down at the angel. The head was a little misshapen but the rest was perfectly crafted. She wrapped an arm around Brittany's waist.

"It's perfect." She smiled and Brittany returned it. "So, a snowman right?" Brittany nodded and the strings on her plush hat bobbed up and down.

They agreed to each do a layer of the body and then they would do the head together. Silently, Santana worked on the larger, lower third and Brittany rolled the slightly smaller middle portion. Santana huffed out hot breaths and wondered how it was possible to sweat in the freezing cold. Finding a perfect place to anchor the bottom snowball, she padded around the edges to cement it to the ground. A large weight crushed into her back and she had to fight against crashing into the beginnings of their snowman. The cold snow slowly dripped into the back of her pants that were slightly opened against her skin from being crouched down. Santana turned around and saw Brittany standing a few feet away with a small grin on her face.

"Really?" she yelled out and Brittany only shrugged her shoulders. "But I didn't pick snowball fight…"she muttered to herself but Brittany must have heard her, because she laughed.

"It was too easy." She went back to rolling her oversized ball of snow and ignored Santana who twisted around back to the snowman.

"Are you calling me easy?" Santana yelled out with her back turned. She silently formed a decent-sized snowball and hid it out of view before standing up and walking towards Brittany who still wasn't looking at her.

"Well, I wasn't…but I'm not going to disagree with yo—" she was cut off by a snowball hitting her in the side of the face. She abandoned her task and looked at Santana in disbelief. Santana shrugged her shoulders, mimicking her earlier response. "Okay, I had that coming."

Santana nodded her head. "Yep." Brittany picked up her middle part and carried it over, setting it down on top of the earlier creation. They worked together to form a decent sized head and Santana put it on top of the snowman. She looked it over and muttered softly, "We need a Santa hat."

Brittany looked thoughtful for a second before snapping her fingers. "My dad has one upstairs in his room." She bounced back into the house and clamored up the stairs looking frantically around her parent's room. Her excitement overwhelmed the fact that they were probably going to kill her for tracking snow all over the house, but she figured it would dry before they got home. She found the hat and took the stairs two at a time, returning outside. Large snowflakes had just started to fall again and they drifted down almost unapparent through the bright rays of sunlight reflecting off the ground, blanketed in fluffy, white snow.

Santana had her back facing the front of the house and Brittany assumed she was putting the nose and eyes on the snowman. When Santana backed away to look at her, the face was blank, but Brittany's eyes drifted south and she saw where she had placed them.

"I think you missed a little." Brittany laughed and reached down to remove the carrot and rocks that were strategically placed.

Santana shrugged her shoulders and smirked, "I was just trying to make sure everyone knew he was a guy."

Brittany pushed the rocks into the head and stuck the carrot an appropriate distance away. "You can give him a mustache then, my neighbors have little girls and I don't think they'd appreciate them seeing that."

"Buzz kill." She took the red hat from Brittany's hand and wrapped it around the snowman's head. They both stepped back and admired their handiwork.

"I love him." Brittany clapped her hands. Reaching into her pocket, Santana pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. "What are you doing?"

"So we have something to look at when he melts." Brittany frowned and crossed her arms. "Hey," Santana moved over and wrapped warm arms around her shoulders, "he won't melt for awhile. We live in Ohio. God knows how long winter is going to last."

Brittany's lips twitched but she held her frown in place. She pretended like Santana wasn't there and stared off into space.

"How about some hot chocolate?" Santana suggested and Brittany's head snapped to her and nodded urgently. "Thought that would work." A few snowflakes had landed on Brittany's eyelashes and she reached up to wipe them away gently.

The feel of Santana's fingers against her skin rushed boiling blood to replace the cold, wind-whipped red of her cheeks. Her mind drifted to the morning, when she had been praying for Santana to never remove her hands from her skin. She lost herself in the gentlest connection and only came out of it when Santana walked away and started pacing towards the house. Brittany waited for her breaths to even out before following her into the house.

* * *

><p>"Do people go Hanukkah shopping?" Quinn asked while walking over and grabbing a cart. Her and Raachel had decided on using their day off to do a little present-shopping.<p>

Rachel chuckled a little, "Of course they do. How do you think we get presents? They just appear?" Quinn arched one eyebrow with a smirk. "Okay yes I know that sounds a lot like your Christian counterpart to my holiday."

Quinn smiled, "You just never hear people say 'Let's go Hanukkah Shopping!'"

"How about we just call it Holiday shopping then?" Rachel countered and Quinn nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like a plan." They set off down the first aisle and surveyed the Holiday themed sweaters and pajama pants. "So who do you need to shop for?"

Rachel pulled a list out of her pocket, "I need a present for Dad, Daddy, Fi—" her voice cut off when she came to her ex's name on the list. She produced a pen from her purse and scratched his name out with a little too much force.

Quinn watched the scene and gave Rachel her best sympathetic smile, "Are you okay?"

Nodding her head, Rachel tried to return the smile, "Yeah, I'm good. I will be at least. Um," she cleared her throat, "then I have Brittany," Quinn raised an eyebrow, "I drew her name in our glee secret Santa," she looked back down to the list and read the last name with a genuine smile, "and then there's you."

Quinn shook her head and resumed walking down the aisle, "You don't have to get me anything."

"But I want to," Rachel insisted, "I love giving gifts."

"No one loves giving gifts. People love _getting_ gifts." Quinn teased her and she huffed.

"While I do love, receiving them, I love giving them as well. I love watching the look of surprise on someone's face when they get a gift that is so perfectly chosen for them." Rachel tugged down a pair of reindeer pants that she imagined Brittany wearing. They had a set of soft, reindeer antlers attached to the tag and that pretty much sold her on buying them.

She showed them to Quinn who asked, "Brittany?" Rachel nodded and dropped them into the cart. "Looks like you're a natural gift-giver."

"And the fact that you could identify so easily who those were for, before I had a chance to tell you, proves my point." They continued walking down the rows.

"Right, it had nothing to do with the fact that we are in the _girl's_ section and Brittany is the only girl besides me on your list." Quinn reached forward to grab a pair of socks with candy canes around the top. _'Mom will love these,'_ she chuckled and dropped them into the cart.

"How do you they weren't for you?" Rachel chimed in after they found the men's sweaters. She picked through a few of them.

"I know that there is no way you would let me see my present before Christmas. Just like I'm not buying the rest of your presents today, so they will stay a surprise." Quinn watched Rachel's mouth fall open.

"The rest?" Quinn nodded. "So not only did you get me a present, you got me…more than one?" Quinn nodded again and Rachel gave her, her full attention.. "But you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, I wanted to. I figured there was no way you were going to let me off without getting a present, so I decided you were getting them too. There are eight of them, by the way."

"Eight?" Rachel asked but she already knew the answer.

"Eight days of Hanukkah. Eight presents." Rachel was already shaking her head, "And I only want one present from you. Or I'm taking all of yours back."

"You drive a hard bargain Quinn Fabray." They shared a laugh before walking slowly through the rest of the store. Quinn kept a conscious eye on everything Rachel picked up, noting the things she spent a long time examining.

After finding presents for the rest of their required family members, Rachel leaned over to Quinn at the checkout. "So, you already have some of my presents," she started.

Quinn laughed, "Good try. They're a surprise."

"No hints?" Rachel picked up her bags and followed Quinn out of the store.

"Nope, no hints."

* * *

><p>"They shouldn't call this an ice rink; it's just a pond that they put a fence around." Santana was bent over lacing up her skates. She and Brittany had brought ones they found crammed in the back of Brittany's garage.<p>

"Hurry up slowpoke," Brittany begged. She was leaning over the edge of the fence and was watching the few other skaters.

"I'm good." Santana stood up and grabbed Brittany's hand leading them onto the ice. They dropped hands but moved around slowly side by side. "Having fun?"

Brittany smiled and then sped up, creating a lot of distance between them. Santana picked up the pace and they chased each other around the ice. They managed to still trip up a few of the other patrons who shouted angrily at them and decided to leave the rink.

Now alone, they skated silently around each other. Brittany got distracted watching the last of the people pack up their cars and drive away, causing her to clip Santana's shoulder the wrong way, sending them tumbling down to the floor. Their heads knocked together and they both yelped in pain.

"Britt…" Santana laughed and rolled over to face Brittany, who was rubbing her head.

"Sorry," Brittany's words were much more thoughtful than they should have been and Santana looked at her oddly.

"What's wrong?" she moved closer and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Nothing…I just," she paused, "Sometimes I really want to kiss you," Santana ducked her head and blushed, "but I feel bad cause of Artie."

Santana felt a jab of jealousy rip through her chest but started to run her hand over Brittany's back. "We're not doing anything wrong Britt." _Lie_. "We're just friends."

"I don't have any other friends that I do stuff with," Brittany argued.

"I hope not." Santana muttered under her breath. Brittany raised an eyebrow questioningly at her. "Look, we're best friends B. Sometimes we get carried away. It's not that big of a deal."

"Promise?" Brittany put up her pinkie and Santana wrapped her own in it. Brittany still looked unsure but she tried to put up a front.

"I promise." Santana leaned in and kissed her firmly. She pulled back but Brittany followed her and reattached their lips. She reached up and wrapped a hand around Brittany's neck and secured the other one in her hair. Their lips slid against each other effortlessly and an unconscious moan slipped from Brittany's throat, snapping Santana back into the reality of where they were. She pulled back slowly and looked around, resettling them on her unopened eyes. "Hey," Brittany opened them and she stared back in a daze, "if you ever want to kiss me, just do it." They smiled at each other before a loud yell broke them apart.

"Mind if we join you?" Quinn skated out onto the ice with Rachel in tow. She came to an abrupt halt, skidding ice shavings onto Santana's legs. Santana glared up at her and she only smirked in response. Rachel was already helping Brittany to her feet, when Quinn offered Santana a hand. "Where is everybody?"

"They got sick of us upstaging them and left." Santana quipped earning a laugh from other girls.

"More like they got sick of us crashing into them." Brittany took off and started circling around again. Quinn followed her. Santana watched them flowing around the ice and turned to Rachel who couldn't keep her eyes off of Quinn.

"How's it going with her?" Santana nudged Rachel in the shoulder and pointed toward Quinn, who was playfully lining up with Brittany on one edge of the rink.

Rachel's mouth bobbed up and down trying to form a sentence, Santana had caught her completely off guard. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about Santana."

"Who are you trying to kid short-stuff?"

"You do realize you're maybe…an inch taller than me?" Rachel countered, effectively silencing her. Brittany and Quinn mad dashed across the ice and raced to the other side. Santana hadn't looked away from Brittany once. "And although it's not much of your concern, it's going fine. Now that Finn is…out of the picture…"

"I'm sorry about that." Rachel's eyebrows rose incredulously. "No, I really am. I was just tryin to help you out."

"Thanks I guess. Anyway, now that he's out of my life, I'm trying to figure out what is going on with her."

"Well good luck with that," Santana caught up with Brittany and looped their arms together. Quinn saw Rachel standing alone at the edge of the fence and made her way over.

"You okay?" she asked and extended a hand to her. Rachel took it and smiled.

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Christmas morning had Brittany racing down the steps the second her eyes popped open and eagerly sitting in front of the tree piling all of the presents with her name on them together. Her sister and parents joined her a few minutes later and she looked to them for the green light to open her presents. Anna and Tony nodded their heads and Brittany and Christine tore through their gifts. The rest of her morning consisted of family breakfast and watching the '<em>The Year without a Santa Claus.' <em>

That morning Santana was dragged forcibly from her bed down the stairs to receive the few physical presents her mom and dad gave her – a new sweatshirt, Prada sunglasses, and an iPhone—and the card filled with a couple hundred dollar bills. After their mandated 'family time', she begged them to let her return to bed and with heavy sighs they agreed. She eagerly made her way back to her room and fell quickly back asleep.

Quinn marched home from church mass and sat quietly waiting for her turn to open a present. Her sister was home from college, and they traditionally took turns opening one gift at a time. After receiving her fifth Christmas angel for the fifth year in a row, she ignored Judy's request to stay for breakfast, and retreated to her room where she wrapped her final gifts.

Hanukkah having past before Christmas morning, Rachel woke up at regular time and hopped on her elliptical. Finishing her workout she walked downstairs and observed her fathers exchanging Christmas gifts, since Leroy was originally Lutheran, and they smiled when she took a place on the floor in front of them. Hiram reached behind a pillow and pulled out a tiny wrapped box and handed it over to her. Little diamond earrings hung on Rachel's ears for the rest of the morning and she settled in between her parents to watch _The Disney Christmas Day Parade._

* * *

><p><strong>(5:32 PM) Rach:<strong> You missed the last day of Hanukkah.

Quinn dropped the roll of tape and picked up her phone to read the message from Rachel. She smirked and wrote back.

**(5:34 PM): **No I didn't.

**(5:35 PM) Rach:** I think one of us has a generally superior knowledge of that particular holiday.

**(5:36 PM): **True, but I decided against giving you your last gift until I could have my present. I didn't miss anything.

Quinn finished taping up Rachel's last present and dropped in on her bed. She had been leaving presents on her front porch for everyday of the Jewish holiday with tiny notes explaining them. Rachel had eventually caught onto her plan, so she stalked her house—in a slightly-creepy way—for when she was out and left the presents then. On the eighth day she sat down the street in her car and watched Rachel sitting on the front porch waiting patiently, until Leroy came out and demanded she come inside.

Xx

Rachel scanned over the presents Quinn had given her. She had them all laid out on her bed with the little scraps of paper with her scrawling script explaining them.

The first day she received a tiny book on Ancient Greek Myths. _So you don't ever have to be confused with my references again. _

The second day, a rectangular box filled with assorted teas and a bear-shaped bottle of honey. _Since we both love your voice, keep it in top shape. And also because who doesn't love honey out of a bear?_

When she came home from vocal lessons, she found a wrapped picture frame on her bed. When she asked her dad Hiram, he said he had brought it inside for her. It held a picture of her and Quinn from elementary school. _Don't forget where we were, it's important for where we're going._ Leroy wasn't too impressed with this gift, since it gave him the first glimpse at who was leaving the presents.

The fourth day was a bottle of Vanilla Perfume. _In case you needed a refill :)_ Rachel had to chuckle at this one; Quinn had remembered what scent she wore, and while she should have found it creepy, she was flattered.

The fifth day brought a pink ornament covered with bright gold stars. _I know you're Jewish, but I couldn't resist. _With no tree, Rachel hung it from a pin on her corkboard.

On the sixth day she found the first gift _bag_ and it held a plaid, green scarf. _Since you got me a green scarf, I figured I could return the favor. Now only if you got me a red one, we could be even ;)_ Rachel smirked and remembered the day at the mall. Memories of lemonade and Jesse St. James clouded her mind but she shook them off and turned to the seventh and, almost, final gift.

So far this one was her favorite; the day they had gone shopping Rachel had picked this item up and desperately wished she had the extra money to purchase it for herself. She didn't even notice Quinn had been paying attention to her. _The first way you will hold New York City in the palm of your hand._ Rachel picked up the snow-globe and shook it up, watching the artificial snow drifting down onto the small Empire State Building.

She dropped the globe back onto the bed and picked up her cell phone again.

**(5:43 PM): **When are you coming to get me? I'm getting impatient.

**(5:44 PM) Quinn:** Gees, maybe I should keep it for a few extra days.

Rachel smiled and knew she had a tiny amount of leverage.

**(5:45 PM): **But then you don't get your present and I know you are just as anxious as I am :)

**(5:47 PM) Quinn:** Damn! I didn't think of that. I'm leaving in a few minutes. I was waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass for me to leave dinner.

**(5:48 PM): **Okay! I'll be here.

Xx

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked Quinn, who brought the car to a halt in front of a house that was lit up with an excessive amount of Christmas lights and decorations.

"We're here." Quinn smiled and reached down to adjust the radio to a station Rachel didn't recognize.

"We're exchanging gifts, in front of…a random person's house?" Rachel questioned her when she didn't tear her eyes away from the radio until a song started to come through clearly.

"It's not random trust me. Just watch." When a new song started the lighting effects synched up with the song playing in the car. The house continued to follow the song and Rachel couldn't stop staring at the decorations. Quinn, instead of watching the house, watched Rachel's face light up with every new section of the song. Her eyes glimmered, reflecting the twinkling Christmas lights.

The show came to a close and Rachel turned back to Quinn in the driver seat and smiled. "Definitely not random."

"Yeah I figured you'd like it." She reached into the back of the car and pulled out a box wrapped in bright green wrapping paper covered with red Santa hats. "Last present?"

Rachel nodded her head and took the box from Quinn. She ripped through the paper and opened it, revealing a bracelet with a few charms hanging off of it. "It's beautiful." She picked it up and examined the three dangling objects: a charm reading _Dream,_ another reading _Believe_, and the last was a miniature gold star. "You really drove home the idea that I love gold stars with your gifts."

Shrugging her shoulders, Quinn smiled. "I know they're your thing so…"

"I love it, I really do." She leaned over the middle of the car and wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. "Thank you."

Rachel started to pull away but Quinn brought her hands to rest on either side of her face and kissed her abruptly. At first Rachel was frozen in shock, but she quickly started moving her lips against Quinn's. It suddenly felt like someone had twisted the heat up in the car on full blast. Realizing what was happening; Rachel pulled back and rested their foreheads together.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Quinn whispered and Rachel tried to not shy away from her words.

"I know," Rachel muttered softly and Quinn pulled away.

"You know?" she asked and sat back in her seat.

"A little birdie told me," Rachel teased and Quinn shook her head.

Quinn deadpanned, "Santana."

"You know that expression is much cuter when you don't know who I'm talking about." Rachel sighed, "I knew before that though."

Quinn reached over and ran a hand through the wavy brown hair falling at Rachel's shoulders, "How?"

"You've kissed me before Quinn." Quinn shut her eyes and dropped her head. "Did you forget?" Rachel chuckled and grabbed her hand.

"Nope, just hoped you had. Not my finest hour."

"Can't say I wasn't surprised." Rachel offered and reached over, hooking her hand behind Quinn's neck and pulling her forward for another kiss. Their tongues met for the first time and flowed easily against each other. Rachel pulled back again. "We can't be doing this."

Quinn eyed her with confusion, "What? Why?" She ran her thumb across Rachel's cheek.

Rachel pushed her hand away and looked ahead, out of the front windshield. "For so many reasons. We both dated the same guy, you had a baby with another guy we both dated and my mother adopted her, everyone thinks we hate each other, and most importantly, you're Quinn Fabray."

"And? You're Rachel Berry. What does that have to do with anything?" Quinn reached over and grabbed Rachel's hand again, ignoring her tiny flinch.

"Head Cheerleader Quinn Fabray and resident loser Rachel Berry. Match made in heaven right?" Rachel chuckled in spite of herself and gripped Quinn's hand tighter.

"I don't care who we are to anybody else. You're Rachel and I'm Quinn." Quinn pulled Rachel into her arms and rubbed her back soothingly. "Nothing else matters. Okay?"

"Yeah…okay." Rachel agreed timidly and wrapped her arms around Quinn waist. "So you want your present now?"

"Of course." Out of Quinn's arms and back in her seat, Rachel reached into her purse and pulled out a bundle of red material that Quinn recognized immediately as the red scarf Rachel had purchased the previous year at the mall.

"I was just kidding about the scarf Rach." She laughed and grabbed it out of Rachel's hands. When she picked it up, it was oddly heavier that it should have been.

"I know. That's why your present is inside." Quinn arched her eyebrow with a smile. "I'm taking that back though. It's temporary wrapping paper."

Inside was a small, red, velvet jewelry box. She opened it and stared down at the sterling-silver heart necklace. The lights outside the car reflected off the shiny surface and Quinn looked up at Rachel who was waiting for her reaction. "You got me a heart necklace?" Rachel nodded. "Isn't that a little obvious?"

"I was planning on telling you how I felt before Christmas ended. You just beat me to it." She smiled and picked the accessory out of its case and leaned forward to secure it around Quinn's neck.

"Are you claiming me?" Quinn fiddled with the pendant and smiled down at the gesture, whether it was Rachel's intention or not.

When Rachel was still silent, she looked up and saw the girl staring at her absently. "What?"

"Do you not like it?"

"Why wouldn't I like it?

Rachel turned her head defiantly, "You haven't said anything other than smartass comments about it, so how would I know?"

"Rachel, I love it. I'm going to wear this every day. Besides Sunday. My mother would have a fit if I refused to wear my cross to church." Quinn smirked and hugged Rachel again. "Thanks."

"You're welcome Quinn."

* * *

><p>Santana decided against taking her car to Brittany's for their annual Christmas exchange and decided to walk the few blocks to her house. The sky was already dark and filled with bright twinkling stars, accompanying the light snowfall. She was glad it was snowing; she hated the years where Christmas passed without snow, they just didn't feel right.<p>

She saw Brittany sitting expectantly on her front porch with two mugs of hot chocolate, steam billowing from the top. They had a tradition of sitting in front of her house every Christmas Day night and giving each other one gift. Santana shuffled the package in her hands, and prayed for it to stay silent.

"Did you walk?" Brittany asked her when she took a seat next to her on the top step. She had laid down a blanket to keep their butts warm against the cold, cement steps.

"Mhm. I wanted to stay over and I figured if your parents saw I didn't have my car, they wouldn't be able to say no." Santana smirked at her plan and knew the Pierce's wouldn't refuse her anyway, but wanted the extra insurance.

"Good plan." Brittany took a sip of her hot chocolate before setting it down and grabbing the present sitting between her boots. "Here."

Santana ripped through the wrapping paper and opened a rectangular package. When she pulled the tissue paper back she gasped at what she saw. "B…how did you get this?"

"My dad went to pick up our dinner the one night and he noticed the table wasn't there anymore. _Our _table. So he asked the manager where they were and he took him out back. He brought the table home and I asked him if he could cut out the block with our initials." Brittany watched Santana trace her fingers over the wood. Tears started to drip onto the paper, crumpling with each added droplet. "Are you okay?"

"I wanted it to be there forever. I can't believe they just threw it out." Santana fought the tears unsuccessfully and the continued to roll down her face.

"At least we got it before they trashed them right?" Brittany urged her to relax and ran fingers along her back. "It's okay San."

"I know." She slung her arms around Brittany and pulled her in tight. "Thanks Brittany. I love it so much."

"You're welcome." She sat back and patted her lap. "Okay, my turn."

Santana smiled and wiped away a few excess tears. She picked up her gift carefully and gently placed it onto her lap. "Be careful. It's really fragile."

Brittany eyed the open holes on the lid and squinted her eyes in confusion. She popped the lid off and dug through the large amount of old scarves and fluffy hand towels. She found a tiny orange kitten buried beneath them and yelped in excitement. "You got me a kitten!" She picked it up and held it against her chest. "Oh my god S. She's adorable." Brittany ran her fingers behind the kitten's ears and she grinned up at Santana. "Is this why you called and talked to my dad earlier?"

"Yup. He didn't really want another animal but when I told him I already bought it, and our maid was extremely allergic to cats, he didn't really have a choice," Santana reached over and ran a finger across the cat's head.

"You're really good at messing with my mom and dad," Brittany remarked and replaced the tiny cat in its tiny box. "Why a kitten?"

"I know last week you said you wanted that fat piece of shit cat to have a friend so I figured, why not another cat? God knows he'd probably eat a mouse."

Chuckling, Brittany leaned over and pecked her lips sweetly. "Thank you Santana."

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany and pulled her in close. "I love Christmas."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Two chapters in a row that ended on a positive note. Woo! **

**As always, thanks for reading:)**


	24. we'll take a cup of kindness yet

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: So...I took forever with this chapter and I apologize. I have been writing this for like 3 weeks, and every time I opened it I had complete writers block. It's almost half the size of the last chapter but still not that short. I'm sorry for the long wait! I'll try to have a new one in a few days. I start school back up next week so I'll try to at least get one more chapter up this weekend in case I don't for a while. But we'll see! Anyways, this is new years eve and such. All Brittana, Faberry will take a break for awhile I think but since I have stuff for them planned into episode-chapters, there will probably be a few AU chapters between now and then.  
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**rosswellmorgana-Haha that's fine! I was in a really good and cheerful mood when I wrote that chapter so I made it as happy and cute as I could :)  
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**Breakdown6-Is it bad that I chuckled out loud when I read "balls to the wall?" thank you! I feel weird writing to you on here after talking to you a bunch on tumblr lol  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p><em>"Where've you been?" Brittany pulled Santana into her arms and hugged her tightly against her chest. It had been almost 12 or 14 hours since she had seen the girl last and that was way too long in her opinion.<br>_

_Santana pulled away and brushed a piece of hair behind Brittany's ear. "I got a lecture from my mom about how 'this is the holidays mi hija, you need to spend more time with us!' They wouldn't let me leave, especially with mi abuela coming over." She squeezed Brittany tighter against her body and hummed her appreciation for the embrace. She missed Brittany after ten minutes of being gone, so the half of the day she was forced to stay away was unbearably long._

_ Brittany finally freed herself from Santana's grasp and plopped onto her bed. "Well I missed you, and Cuddles missed you, and even Lord Tubbington missed you."_

_Santana reached up and pulled the tight ponytail from her hair, happy to finally relax after a long day trying to be on her best behavior. She followed Brittany to the bed and climbed onto her designated side. "I highly doubt that Britt." She pulled Cuddles up, from where she was smacking Brittany's longest strands of hair, into her lap. The kitten rubbed against the back of her hand, purring surprisingly loud for such a small animal._

_ Brittany chuckled, "Sorry, I don't think he likes you very much." _

_"Are you just finding this out?" Santana nudged Brittany in the back with her foot playfully. _

_Brittany tickled the bottom of her foot, sending Santana into a kicking foot. "Britt! Stop!" Brittany laughed louder and rose from the bottom of the bed, startling Cuddles off of the other girl's lap, to drop her body onto Santana's to stop her from squirming. "What are you doing?" _

_Brittany muttered an unconvincing, "...Nothing," before attacking her sides with more forceful jabs. Underneath her, Santana couldn't fight free and she gasped breaths that were not coming easily. _

_ "Please! Please stop!" When her plea's went ignored, Santana finally fought back, "You know what? Fine. Let's see how you like it!" She jabbed Brittany's side and the girl squirmed around on top of her, before straddling Santana's lap and using her knees to pin down her arms. "This is so not fair." _

_Brittany brought her face down close to Santana's and pecked her on the lips. "It's okay that Lord Tubbington doesn't like you." _

_Santana feigned hurt but asked, "why?" with her eyebrows scrunched. Another peck knocked the fake scowl off of her face._

_"Cause I like you." Brittany crashed their lips together and moved further down on Santana's lap, freeing her arms. Santana wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's neck and pulled the girl as close to her own body as she could. Their mouths slid eagerly against each other. It had been awhile since they messed around, and an even longer time since the last time Brittany had been the one to initiate it. Brittany didn't seem to have any reluctance when she bit forcefully on Santana's bottom lip forcing them apart. Before she had a chance to notice, Santana dropped her hands to her hips and used her full weight to flip their positions. Brittany smiled and ran her hands down Santana's sides, finding the same place Santana had grabbed her. Santana trailed kisses down Brittany's neck and planted her hands on either side of the girl's head. She moved back up and hovered over Brittany's mouth. _

_"You know," her panting breath made it hard to form the words, "you...you need new moves."_

_Brittany frowned, "What?"_

_Chuckling, Santana kissed the corner of Brittany's lips. "I mean tickling to initiate a make out? That's so middle school."_

_ "That's your move." Brittany teased. "I thought you'd appreciate it."She squeezed Santana's hips and pulled them down against her own body._

_Santana moaned in response, "Mmm. Show me the rest of my moves." _

_Brittany grinned up at her, "Gladly."_

* * *

><p>"Mmm..." a soft moan put a halt to the kisses Santana was administrating down the smooth skin of Brittany's shoulder. She felt Brittany tighten the muscles in her back, stretching her body awake. Brittany turned around in her arms and leaned her forehead against Santana's. "Good morning."<p>

Santana chuckled lightly, "It's 1 in the afternoon Britt."

Brittany's eyes shot open and darted around furiously. "What?" she exclaimed and wrestled against Santana's sheltering embrace. Unwillingly, Santana released her and allowed Brittany to jump out of the bed.

"What's wrong?" Santana queried, watching Brittany rustle around her room pulling clothes from her dresser. Whether oblivious or brazen to her nakedness, Brittany shuffled through drawers, while Santana watched on with a smirk.

"Nothing's wrong…" Brittany continued her mission and after getting a hold of an outfit, she turned back to Santana.

Sprawled out underneath the covers, left disheveled from Brittany's abrupt departure, she noticed Santana was still naked pushed up against her blankets. Her mind drifted back to the previous nights they had spent in this exact situation since Christmas. Even if they spent every minute apart during the day, every night they ended up right back in her bed. Whether they were forcing Lord Tubbington to play with the new kitten(aptly named 'Cuddles' since the first night when she wouldn't sleep without being curled up between the two of them), talking about their dreaded return to school, or fooling around, like they had the night before, it was never quite enough.

Watching Santana stare up at her, questions probing from behind expectant chocolate eyes, it hurt Brittany to deliver the next answer. "I just…I have to meet Artie before Puck's party tonight." Her words swept away the entrancing anticipation and was replaced instead with crippling insecurity; a look that broke Brittany's heart in two. _'How many more times can my heart break…'_

Stagnant silence polluted the once light-hearted bedroom and Brittany nervously shifted her weight between two awkward feet. Santana gripped the heavy blanket and pulled it up over her body shamefully, an action not ignored by Brittany. Her own naked body felt increasingly awkward and she shifted her arms to cover her pelvis with the black dress she clutched in one hand.

Clearing her throat, Santana muttered a soft, "Oh…" She let her eyes drift from Brittany's face for the first time and located her own shirt at the foot of the bed. Keeping a hold of the blankets, she hunched over and grabbed it hastily. She slipped the material over her torso and let the covers drop to her lap.

"Yeah, I promised him yesterday. We're going to hang out and get dinner until—"

"Why are you telling me this?" Santana cut her off, venom slipping into her voice unconsciously.

Brittany looked taken-aback but clenched her jaw to restrain the tears stirring up in her chest, "I was just explaining where I was going. I…I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Santana reached over the side of the bed and grabbed her dark sweatpants. Throwing the covers off, she slipped them onto her body and stood. Lying on Brittany's bed gave her an overwhelming sense of inferiority that scared her. Now standing, the ball fell back in her court and she gave Brittany a quick hug before grabbing her shoes and heading towards the door. "Bye Britt."

"Santana…" Brittany whispered softly but her plea went ignored and she settled for saying, "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Later." Santana threw open the door and marched down the stairs. She waved a distant goodbye to Anna who was taking down the Christmas tree in their living room and tried her best to return the smile she received.

The winter wind bit at her body when Santana exited the house. _'Shit!'_ she thought and internally cursed herself for rushing out so fast and not bothering to grab her coat. Her instincts told her to run. If only her instincts were smart enough to remember the impending hyperthermia they would cause.

Climbing into her car she twisted the key in the ignition and rubbed her hands together, trying to retain the heat from inside the warm house. A shiver broke down her spine and she quickly turned the heater on. "Fuck!" she exclaimed trying to soothe her frozen digits. As the warmth poured out into her car, she noticed that while the color was returning to her fingertips, her insides felt icier than ever. The warmth lingered around her eyes and she let a few tears stream relentlessly down her cheeks; their trail leaving blazing tracks across chilled skin.

Everything was so perfect before Artie. She and Brittany were…whatever they were, and it didn't have to be confusing. Then Wheels had to come into the picture and fuck everything up. A twinge of guilt made her remember Tommy. '_Tommy…_' The boy had essentially been her Artie. Had Brittany felt this way every time she saw the two of them together? Actually, she had never _seen_ them together. Santana made sure to keep them separate, and now, sitting frozen in her car, she wondered, _'Did I do that on purpose?'_ Had she been keeping the boy out of the picture to protect Brittany? Her mind raced. Making sure Brittany never had to see her hold hands, hug, or even _kiss _anyone else subconsciously was Santana's way of making sure she was never hurting. But the look in her eyes when Santana got mad for an Artie-related reason told her she was failing.

Wiping away a few more rogue tears, Santana pulled away from the curb. She wanted to go to Quinn's house, or even Berry's, but the two had been M.I.A. the last few days and she had no other choice but to pull regretfully into her own driveway and stumble through her own doorway in defeat.

* * *

><p>Santana could hear the music blaring through the streets in her one unoccupied ear driving towards Puck's house. Kurt's voice filled her other ear through the cell phone mashed between her head and shoulder.<p>

"So you're really not coming?" She complained into the mouthpiece. Everyone they knew had been invited, and that even included Kurt at Dalton with an extended invitation to bring Blaine.

"Not tonight Santana. As much as I love getting hammered beyond recognition," Santana chuckled knowing Kurt usually avoided any alcohol intake, "I think a nice night home with Blaine, Carol, and my dad will be quite enough _fun._"

"You're such a _loser_…" she whined, pulling up behind the cars parked halfway down the street from Puck's home. _'Does his mother really think it's a good idea to leave him with an empty house?' _"First Fabray bails, and now you. Who am I supposed to get wasted with in this shithole?"

"I don't know, Puck? I know Mike and Tina are going." Kurt offered halfheartedly.

Santana sighed and checked her makeup in the overhead mirror. "I love Chang-Chang, but as far as partying goes, they aren't on my level."

He laughed, "And I am?" A pause long enough to notice passed until Kurt spoke up again, "There's always Brittany."

"We talked about that Hummel." Santana scowled at her own reflection.

"I just don't understand why you won't tell her everything." Hesitation rippled through the receiver.

Laughing darkly through her words, she explained, "Really Kurt? _You_ don't understand why I won't tell her how I feel?" Kurt started to talk but was cut off. "No, you listen to me right now. People went after you _only_ because you were…who you were. What if you had to put someone _else_ in harm's way because of how _you_ felt? Would you do that?" Santana cleared her throat. "Plus I don't even know what's going on with her. She's insistent on 'sex is not dating,' and honestly right now I'm okay with that. I'm not ready for everyone to know."

"Telling her doesn't mean you're telling the world Santana…" He argued.

"That's not the point Kurt!" Santana screamed, still staring into her own reflection.

"You just need to—"

Slamming the mirror back up into the roof of the car, she pulled the phone down from her ear and hit the end button. _'Fuck Kurt!' _she screamed inside her head and punched the roof with the fist grasping her cell. The pain shot down through her middle knuckle into the middle of her wrist and Santana cried out. It reddened under her watch and she cursed at herself.

The night wasn't getting off to a great start and she figured if there was any way to make it through the rest, she wasn't going to do it sober.

* * *

><p>Brittany had driven herself and Artie to the party a few hours earlier, running only a few stop signs. Upon arriving, drinks were thrust into both their hands by Puck before he sauntered off following a group of Cheerio's. Brittany had seen Mike and Tina dancing eagerly in the center of the room and rushed off to join them. She fell into the pounding rhythm easily and kept a safe distance from the couple grinding shamelessly against each other. Brittany had to laugh at the two who acted like entirely different people once they got a little alcohol into their system. She also had to admire Mike. He had changed significantly since their past relationship and Brittany figured Tina must have been the good influence. He gave her a kind smile and she returned an approving nod.<p>

Brittany turned to look back at where she had inadvertently abandoned Artie and waved him over to join them. He declined with a smile and refocused his attention to discussing something at length with another football player. She turned back and found Sam having joined into the improvised dance floor in the middle of the room. Walking past Tina and Mike, who had given up their ruse of dancing and were full on making out, Brittany spun him around and smiled a hello.

"Hey Brittany!" Sam bellowed out and Brittany figured his large mouth couldn't control the volume. "How's it going?"

"Great!" She grabbed onto his hips and moved them together to the beat of the song. It sounded familiar but the echoing of voices and yelling drowned out anything other than the thick bass. "I haven't seen you around much lately."

Sam nodded his head and his lengthy blonde bangs fell into his face forcing him to reach up and scoot them away. "Yeah, we went South to see my grandparents for Christmas."

Brittany's eyes lit up. "Like the birds?" she almost yelled the question.

Sam smirked, understanding that she was thinking of birds migrating. "Yeah just like the birds." She pursed her lips and nodded knowingly.

"Didn't you want to spend Christmas with Quinn?" She looked around the room scanning for the other familiar head of blonde hair.

He smiled apprehensively, "I did. But I'm not too sure she wanted to spend it with me."

Their dancing had slowed as the music switched to a slower tempo. Brittany tried to hide her face, fearing he could see that she knew the reason Quinn had been distant lately. "W-What do you mean?"

Sam shook his head. "She's just been…I don't know…keeping me at arm's length or something. I don't even know what I did." His thoughts seem to jolt instantly and he looked pleadingly into Brittany's eyes. "You don't think she's _talking_ to Finn or Puck again, do you?"

"I'm not sure Sam. You should really talk to her…" she tore her eyes away from him and spotted Artie doing shots with Puck. The smile it gave her was knocked off her face when she noticed a very drunk Santana screaming at a couple of people she had stumbled into.

She was visibly hammered and slurred through insults, in Spanish, that Brittany recognized, but still didn't understand. Sam followed her gaze and watched awkwardly.

"Is…is she…" he started but Brittany cut him off.

"I'm sorry; I have to go help her." She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, "We'll talk later, okay?" He nodded and she set off towards Santana who had moved on to pulling drinks out of other kid's hands. They all protested until she gave them an all too familiar glare and they backed off. Brittany grabbed her arm before she could climb onto the dining room table.

"Santana, what are you doing?" Brittany pulled the girl to a couch and sat her down abruptly. Santana couldn't seem to hold her head up now that they were seated and she fell against the back of her seat. "Hey, hey, hey…look at me." Brittany tried to grasp onto her hand but Santana winced at the pressure. "What happened to your hand?"

"I've…I…um…I hit it. Roof. Kurt's…he's… a dick." She pulled her body up and attempted to sit straight, but she ended up awkwardly hunched over trying to keep her eyes centered on Brittany's. "How's umm….how's the party for you?"

"It's good, I got here awhile ago. Been dancing with Tina and Mike. And Sam. He's a really good dancer. Oh!" Her excitement peaked and Santana smiled at the overjoyed expression. "He went South with the birds to see his grandparents!" Brittany brought herself back to Santana's obvious distress and her smile faltered. "What's going on S?"

"S'nothing. Justs having a good time." She picked up a drink off of the coffee table and brought it to her lips. Brittany looked on with a disapproving grimace. "Where's….Artie?"

'_Artie?' _Brittany knew Santana never referred to her boyfriend by anything other than 'the cripple' or 'Wheels'. She pointed over her shoulder to where Artie was trying to mimic Mike's dance moves; as much as he could from the waist up. "He's been drinking with Puck. And kind of doing his own thing. We promised to meet up at midnight."

"Midnight….right…." Santana took another large sip of whatever she was drinking; Brittany didn't get a chance to see.

Brittany looked nervously around the room. "So…"

Santana smirked at her, "You don't have to sit here. Go."

Shaking her head, Brittany grabbed Santana's hand one more time, being careful to avoid where it was obviously swollen, "Come dance with me."

Santana groaned, "Ugh…I don't think dancing will go very well for me right now." The two shared a brief laugh. "Seriously go have fun with Chang-squared and Artie."

Brittany scrunched up her face again. _'Why isn't she insulting him?' _Something had to be wrong; she even took the time to make a tiny jab at Mike and Tina. Part of her was angry that Santana seemed to be once again keeping something to herself, but the other part felt incredibly guilty; she knew it had to do with her. "Okay but promise me something okay?" Santana nodded her impossibly heavy head. "Just…slow down with this," Brittany nudged the edge of her cup, "…please?"

With a reluctant smile, Santana chuckled softly, "Yeah…" Brittany watched a haunting pain course through her cloudy eyes, thickened in a drunken haze. The dull pain deep in Brittany's chest made her look away fleetingly. With an awkward smile she leaned in and pecked Santana's cheek. The skin twitched uncomfortably against her lips.

"Happy New Year…" she stood and left Santana on the couch, forcing herself to not look back. She knew it would hurt too much.

Brittany found Artie and Mike playing a drinking game she didn't recognize and hunched over to whisper in his ear, "I'm have to go call somebody but I'll be right back okay?" He smiled and pulled his head away to kiss her fully on the lips. The warmth made her feel even guiltier and she jerked away from him and found her way into the hallway.

Brittany found the door to the bathroom and yanked hard on the handle but it refused to budge. She pounded against the hard wood until Puck's voice floated out, "Kinda busy in here." A few suppressed girly chuckles could be heard and Brittany sighed heavily. She made her way farther down and into the closet at the end of the hallway. Without looking around, the walls seemed to close in on her before Brittany realized where she was. The heaviness of the room clouded her mind and she momentarily forgot why she was there in the first place.

Her thoughts turned to Santana and she knew there was no way the girl would stop drinking for long. Not when something was bothering her. It was only a matter of time before Santana would be hooking up with every mouth she could find or crying her eyes out into the chest of a random Cheerio who would soak up every incriminating confession involuntarily slipping from her mouth. Worst of all, if Brittany didn't do anything about it, she would have to watch every minute like a train wreck she couldn't pull her eyes away from.

A few deep breaths later and she pulled her phone from her pocket. It rang a few times before a confused voice answered.

"Kurt?"

* * *

><p>"Shots?" A red-faced Puck walked over to Santana who was stiff in her position on the couch. She looked up at his face and smirked before grabbing both drinks from his hands and downing them simultaneously. He raised his dark eyebrows deep into his hairline.<p>

"What?" She belched loudly. "You said 'shots.' I thought they were both for me." Santana grinned, feeling the tiny difference the alcohol made as it settled into her system. The burning in her chest quickly offset the deep aching she already felt. The two pains were noticeably different and she decided to focus on the one she caused herself. "You look like _you_ were having fun. What's her name?"

"What's _their _name, actually." A cheek grin from Puck made the contents of Santana's stomach churn. "What's wrong babe?"

The pet name made her stomach lurch again. "You're disgusting, you know that right?"

"Coming from you, that don't mean much." He didn't have time to stop the slap she sent across his face. "What the hell? I was kidding Lopez."

Santana was standing now, a little light on her feet from the dizziness inside her head, but firmly standing her ground against him. "Real funny asshole!" She looked around and noticed the people around them had fallen silent and were waiting for her next move.

The silence and stares spread throughout the room and it didn't take long before Brittany was walking through the middle of the room to figure out what happened. She saw the standoff between Puck and Santana and wanted to put herself in between them, but Artie's hand had found hers from behind and held her in place.

Puck put his hands up trying to calm Santana down. "Look it was a joke." She was still seething. "Calm down."

"Fuck you Puck. Seriously, fuck you." The television at the far end of the room started the countdown. Santana turned back to everyone watching them. "Fuck off!" They all tried to divert their attention back to each other and the party started to gain volume again.

6…

Kurt and Blaine walked into the room at the far end looking frantically throughout the crowd of people.

5…

Santana clenched her fists, trying to restrain herself from hitting Puck, who had yet to move from in front of her, again across his face. She was debating heavily between a slap and a punch.

4…

Artie pulled on Brittany's hand trying to lead her over to a table where Mike and Tina had drinks ready for the ball drop. She noticed the two boys working their way through the crowd and caught Kurt's attention enough to nod towards Santana's general location.

3…

Puck muttered a soft apology that only Santana could hear and skirted away from her with his eyes trained on the floor.

2…

Brittany watched Kurt and Blaine coax Santana from her place by the couch towards the front of the house. She watched them lead her away and fought against every instinct that told her to follow them. She made her way over to the table and plopped uncertainly into Artie's lap.

1…

Santana let Kurt and Blaine pull her through the door, relying heavily on their shoulders for support. The alcohol had finally taken its toll on her body and she struggled to stay up. When everyone started their cheers, Santana took one last glance through the party and watched Artie kiss Brittany before making her last step across the threshold.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Hunched against the railing, Santana emptied the contents of her stomach into the flowers in front of the house. Blaine rubbed comforting circles into her back and Kurt deftly held her hair out of the way and whispered comfortingly to her.

"You're okay…you're okay…"

The last thought she registered before blacking out completely was, 'No I'm not. I'm _really_ not.'

* * *

><p>Elephants. It had to be elephants. Nothing else could possibly cause the stampede in her head. Or the way her whole body ached. <em>'Yup, I somehow found my way into a stampede…'<em> She instantly prayed for to fall back asleep, or death. Whichever came first. Santana would gladly take either.

This bed didn't feel like hers. It was too hard. And it smelled too…powdery. Not that her bed smelled disgusting, but this was a new scent. She tried to roll over but she felt bundled up under a heavy bunch of blankets. Santana let out a deep groan and was surprised to hear laughter from a couple feet away.

"I take it you're awake?" Kurt's bubbly voice pierced her ears and she groaned again. He chuckled again.

She mumbled instructions into the pillow beneath her. The words were too muffled for even her to hear and she tried again. "Get. Me. Out."

Kurt laughed again and she heard him get up and trample towards the bed. Even his footsteps pounded in her head. _'Never. Drinking. Again. Ever.' _The all-too familiar mantra played through her head as she felt the heaviness surrounding her lift away.

Feeling less constricted she tried rolling again and this time was met face to face with her pale-faced friend, grinning too wide for her liking. "Good morning!"

"Aah! Are you intentionally—" the pitch of her own voice seemed so loud she cut herself off. Santana forced her voice into a whisper, "Okay, I know your delicate body has never experienced a hangover, but can you please sympathize with me for just a few minutes?" Her tone was bitter and venomous but Kurt's unwavering smile appeared deaf to it.

He matched her whisper, "Mhm. Would you like anything for breakfast?"

"Vodka?" Santana joked and pulled herself slowly into a sitting position.

Kurt tapped his finger against his chin. He was wearing a full length maroon robe tied neatly in the middle with a black rope. His hair was perfectly coifed, even for…_'shit'_ Santana thought, _'what time is it?'_ Her eyes searched around the room for a clock but she came up empty.

"She didn't mention it, but I don't think Carole put that on the breakfast menu…" He smiled at her and walked around the edge of the bed to join her. _'Breakfast…can't be too late then.'_

She panicked, "Wait? You're parents know I'm here?"

"They were the ones who suggested I bring you here instead of attempting to take you home." Kurt admitted and waited for her assessment.

Shrugging her shoulders, Santana answered, "Might as well have taken me home. It's not like my mom or dad would have been there." _'And even if they were, it's not like they would have noticed…'_

"Yeah, well given how much you drank, I wasn't really sure if you should be alone."

She chuckled, "I think I left most of that alcohol on Puck's front lawn." Her volume started to return to normal when the pounding in her head eased. "You didn't have to come get me. I was really rude to you yesterday."

Kurt mirrored her shoulder shrug, slightly mocking her and earning a playful shove. He seemed reluctant to answer her.

"What?" she pointedly asked. His expression darkened and Santana already didn't like where it was headed.

"Well, I wasn't doing it for you." He held onto each word, almost trying to keep them to himself.

"Who were you doing it for?" She urged him on, but part of her already knew the answer. The _only_ other person who seemed concerned.

"Brittany." They both said at the same time. Kurt smiled apologetically and stared at the side of her face.

"What'd she say?" Santana didn't look at him. Everything would be written all over his face and she thought it'd be easier to ignore that.

Kurt sighed, "Just that she was worried about you. There was something wrong and you didn't or wouldn't tell her what it was."

Under her breath Santana huffed, "She didn't really ask."

"I don't think that's the point…" He muttered.

She met his eyes and gave him a warning glance, "Don't."

Kurt's eyes bugged and he pleaded, "I wasn't!"

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes until Kurt clicked his tongue. "So…"

She chuckled softly to ease the tension. He seemed to brighten up a little.

"How about breakfast?" Kurt suggested eagerly and hopped down off of the bed.

Santana climbed steadily to her feet and pointed at him, "Only if I don't have to sit near you're repulsively large brother."

"Deal!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****Thanks for reading! Review if you like :) Have a fantastic day/night/whenever! **


	25. our walls are breaking down

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Essentially 2x11, 2x12, and 2x13 smashed into one chapter. This is all over the place and a lot of stuff happens. Interactions between almost everybody. This is the last chapter of build up! So enjoy! Next chapter will be 2x14 and 2x15 so Brittana will be on a roll from there on out. If I don't get too busy tonight I think I might start writing that one :)  
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**Musicfutbolfan6-Thank you :)  
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**Breakdown6- I personally love the idea of Kurt and Santana being friends. That's something I really would have loved for them to do on the show, I just think it would have been hilarious. I have been struggling so much with waiting for all of Santana's feelings to be known until Sexy happens chronologically so you won't have to wait much longer for Santana to get her shit together lol  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"I really don't want to go back to school!" Brittany called out from underneath the heavy blankets on Santana's bed. Her head was buried beneath the pillow they shared the night before and she was happily drowning in a combination of their scents.<p>

Santana chuckled from her seat at the desk across the room. She had been flipping through music videos and making a playlist for them to listen to. In the late afternoon on their last day of winter break, they had yet to leave the room and had no intention of breaking out of their little bubble. They were comfortable with pretending the next day wasn't ever going to come and ignoring the clocks ticking away their remaining hours.

"We still have all day," Santana offered and walked over to the bed. She poked at the still figure under the blankets and smirked when Brittany jerked away from her hand. She climbed onto the bed and wrapped an arm across what she guessed was Brittany's waist. With a low voice she muttered, "It won't be that bad."

Brittany edged her body back into the curve of Santana's body and smiled when she heard her chuckle again. The arm around her hip tightened. "I'm too used to seeing you every day though…"

"You'll still see me Britt. We have Spanish. And glee club. Plus you get to see everyone else: Quinn, Berry," she paused before adding, "Wheels."

Even though Santana wouldn't be able to see it, Brittany shook her head slightly. "I don't care about seeing anyone else…" she whispered low enough that Santana had to strain her hearing.

Not knowing if she was meant to hear that or not, Santana couldn't help the smug smirk on her face.

"How about we ditch a class or two tomorrow and meet up?" She suggested. Faster than the words left her mouth, Brittany pulled her head out from the covers and twisted around to smile at her. Santana admired the way the blue of her eyes delightfully sparkled.

"Please?" Brittany begged without restraint.

'_Like I could say no to that,'_ Santana thought and nodded her head accordingly. Brittany's joyful expression lit up further than before.

Turning back around Brittany fit even closer into Santana's grasp. She grabbed the arm around her body and pulled it tighter, clasping her hand tight against her chest. They fell asleep; content to spend the rest of the day in bed.

* * *

><p>The towering, bright lights lit up the overgrown green blades of grass underneath the opposing football team's heavy feet. On the other side the ground was barely imposed under the delicate weight of the newly formed McKinley team, complete with every non-Cheerio female member from the glee club. Rachel scanned the sidelines, watching for the return of the cheerleading squad; or at least 3 specific members.<p>

In time with her thoughts, she watched Finn come lumbering out from behind the bleachers with Quinn, Brittany and Santana in tow, clad in their Cheerio red uniform and jackets. She smiled at the uneasy smile on Quinn's face, knowing how big of a deal it was for her to quit her claim to popularity. Her eyes drifted to Santana who bore a look of intensity and satisfaction. Rachel knew she would be proud of her accomplishment at finally sticking it to Coach Sylvester. Lastly, she saw Brittany clearly pleased and with a twinge of relief. Quinn had mentioned to Rachel earlier in the week about Sue's insane attempt at firing Brittany from a canon, so her comforted appearance was entirely understandable.

What she didn't expect to see was Finn grabbing sweetly onto Quinn's hand and delivering his trademark boyish smile. His eyes lit up in a way that she ill-remembered was one he had reserved for looking at her. To her confusion, Rachel imagined she saw Quinn return that smile. It had to be a misunderstanding. _'She was just being polite,'_ Rachel reasoned.

The exchange was short-lived and soon enough Finn was returning to the field. Rachel kept her eyes locked with Quinn's trying to catch her attention. Finally, Quinn gave her a small wave and grinned.

Internally, Rachel sighed in relief.

Xx

"Someone is looking sexy in that uniform…" Santana mused from her place in between Quinn and Brittany.

Quinn scowled at Santana, who put her hands up in defense. Brittany ignored them and watched the boy/girl McKinley team losing possession of the football in the last few minutes of the half.

Santana pointed out onto the field, "I was talking about Puck! Gees Quinn, who did you think I meant?"

Annoyed, Quinn huffed and turned her attention back to the game. Santana nudged Brittany's hip with her hand, calling her attention, and smirked knowingly. As far as Quinn knew, neither girl was aware of her "secret" relationship with Rachel. Brittany couldn't help but smile at Santana's antics and slapped her lightly on the arm.

"Ow! God, you two are no fun." She playfully mocked Quinn's scowl and earned another, lighter hit from Brittany. Santana pinched Brittany's waist and stuck her tongue out. They went back and forth, alternating between hits, shoves, and pinches until Santana finally wrapped her arms around Brittany from behind, pinning the girl's arms to her sides, stilling her movements. She had to balance on on her toes to perch her chin on Brittany's tall shoulders; when the girl noticed the exertion Santana had to put in for this tiny embrace, Brittany shrunk down enough so she could ease her friend's efforts.

"Artie's doing good." Santana observed over Brittany's shoulder and felt the girl nod her agreement. "Who knows, we might finally win." Quinn chuckled from a few feet away. "What?" Santana questioned.

"You're basing whether or not we win a football game on our handicapped friend?" Quinn wasn't trying to be hurtful but just found the implication humorous.

Santana felt no tension in Brittany's body and figured the conversation wasn't upsetting her, so she smiled, "I meant because of the whole team Q."

Again, Quinn laughed. "Yeah, our football team that sucks enough already, is now half-populated with girls…like Rachel who screams every time the ball comes near her."

"I don't think you give her enough credit. She seems pretty into it." Santana argued and released Brittany enough so she could cheer and clap, but still not completely letting go.

"Her and all the other girl's laying proudly on the ground." Quinn watched Puck leap over Tina who had fallen in direct line of his running path. The sight made her grin further.

Santana shrugged her shoulders. "They are really good at going down."

She looked over to Quinn to watch her blow land and saw the blush furiously spread through her cheeks. Brittany turned around in her arms and chuckled disbelievingly at her words. Santana smiled and teasingly pecked Brittany's cheek. Brittany turned back around and scooted backwards, closer to Santana. Her arms closed around her tighter.

* * *

><p>Sitting on the bench in the locker room with a leg of either sided, Brittany watched Santana clean out their lockers. She had offered to help but Santana refused saying that the there wasn't much to deal with anyway. Every few minutes the girl would hand Brittany something to pack in one of their bags; it didn't matter which considering they shared most of their stuff anyway.<p>

Brittany thought about how everything that had ever done, up until that point, had mostly been together. Outside of their boyfriends, almost every experience they've ever had was shared. They started dance together (and Brittany cried for weeks when Santana decided to quit), they started cheerleading together (altogether Quinn's idea, but she knew if she would have denied, Santana wouldn't ever have agreed), and now they were quitting it together.

"I can't believe we quit." She said aloud and Santana stopped what she was doing to join Brittany on the bench.

Santana stared into the wooden seat, "Yeah I know. Are you sad?"

Brittany shook her head lightly, "No, not at all." She paused and laughed, "I prefer quitting Cheerio's to dying."

Raising her head, Santana chuckled, "I never would have let that crazy bitch shoot you out of a canon Britt."

"Thanks." Brittany flashed a toothy smile, "I appreciate it."

Santana returned her smile tenfold. Clicking her tongue, Santana pensively upturned her eyes, "I think I might be bored now though."

"What do you mean?" Brittany questioned. Santana stood and continued to go through their lockers.

Her back was still turned and she shrugged her shoulders. "Being on the Cheerio's was entertaining; I got to fight with Q or bitch out freshman." Brittany didn't see the mischievous smile Santana now adorned, but heard the familiar tone when she reasoned, "I might have to start finding that entertainment elsewhere."

Brittany hung her head and sighed in defeat. "Please don't mess with our friends S…"

"I'm not messing with them…" Santana whipped around and walked closer to Brittany, "I'm going to try to help them. And if I get some personal pleasure out of it, well that's just an added bonus."

Squinting her eyes in confusion, Brittany asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure yet, but as soon as I know I'll tell you." Brittany still looked skeptical. "I'm not gonna purposely hurt anyone Britt, I promise."

Brittany saw the glint in Santana's eye and knew she was up to nothing good. Her friend was hardly ever in a giving mood, and now that she was actively looking for ways to "help" it could only get worse from there. _'Maybe we shouldn't have quit the Cheerio's….I'm sure I would have recovered from a few broken bones,' _Brittany regretfully thought.

"Alright, but don't hurt anyone San. Please." She stood from her seat on the bench and brought her pinkie up in the air for the other girl to take.

Santana wrapped her finger around Brittany's and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Like I said, I promise."

Brittany pulled away and grabbed her overstuffed gym bag. "I have to go meet Artie. I told him we'd hangout after school."

Santana internally flinched at the mention of Brittany's boyfriend but plastered on the best smile she could muster. "Have fun." She said through gritted teeth masked within a smile.

Brittany nodded and left the room. Santana closed her locker and pulled the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder. Pushing open the door she caught a glance of Quinn, far down the hallway, leaned up against a locker. Just as she was about to call out to her, Santana saw Finn make his way over to the girl who was shyly smiling from ear to ear. Pressing herself behind an open door to watch them, Santana couldn't make out the words and was struggling to read the words on Quinn's lips.

No sooner than Santana thought she saw the word 'love' come across Quinn's mouth was it pressed firmly against Finn's. Her eyes widened in surprise. _'What the hell!'_ she internally screamed and watched Quinn walk away, leaving Finn alone (except for Santana who was still hidden) in the hallway.

'_Is Quinn…cheating?' _Santana marched towards the opposite exit doors and burst through them on the way to her car. _'She wouldn't do that to Berry…would she?' _She opened the door and plopped down into the car, twisting the key in the ignition, letting it warm up while she dived into her confusion. _'This is Quinn we're talking about…'_ The girl certainly had a track record when it came to cheating. She was not only cheating on Rachel if she was kissing Finn, but also Sam who she was still currently dating. Santana wanted to tell someone. She wanted to tell Rachel but she wouldn't betray Quinn like that. She wanted to tell Brittany but the girl was busy with Artie. _'Artie'_ Santana gritted her teeth. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she pulled out of the school parking lot with one destination in mind.

* * *

><p>"…so me and Mike have been planning this really awesome song for glee club and I can't wait for you…"<p>

Brittany was lying on her stomach across Artie's bed propped up on her elbows and staring at the television, watching some show she couldn't remember the name of. All she knew was that these really orange people constantly yelled at each other and it unfortunately reminded her of yelling oompa-loompa's; especially the really short one with the high-pitched voice. Artie had been talking for the last few minutes and she would only zone in every once in a while and catch a few words, just to make sure he wasn't asking her a question.

Cutting him off, Brittany muttered towards the television, "They don't even know how to dance."

"What?" He didn't try to hide his mild frustration and confusion with her sudden interruption.

"That fist-pumping thing," she mimicked it with one hand, "it's not dancing."

"We're you listening to me?" Artie asked impatiently.

Brittany leaned up on the bed and crawled towards him. "Yes I was. You and Mike." She pecked his lips and returned to her place on the bed in front of the screen.

When he started talking again, Brittany started to let her mind wander.

_A few days after the football game, Brittany spent the day with Quinn. The two did a little shopping and then returned to her house to watch movies. In the middle of one of the more boring movies Quinn had picked, Brittany turned to the girl and asked abruptly, "Can I talk to you about…umm…Sa-Artie?"_

_Quinn grabbed the remote and paused the movie before turning to Brittany with curious eyes. "What about him?" _

"_He just…sometimes I get the feeling…he…isn't telling me everything." Brittany tried to focus her attention on Quinn but couldn't help but pick at the carpet uncomfortably. _

"_Well what do you exactly mean? What do you think he isn't telling you?" Quinn questioned._

_Brittany tried her best to explain without giving herself away. "He just…I give him all of the signals about how I feel about him…but she—" her eyes went wide and she scrambled to correct herself, "__**he**__ isn't clear about his feelings." _

"_Artie loves you Britt." Quinn delivered her words with a certain edge that Brittany understood Quinn knew they weren't talking about the boy. Or at least she hoped so._

"_I…I know he does. Or at least I think so. But I wish s-__**he **__would be clearer, you know?" Brittany let her head fall to Quinn's shoulder and held back uncertain tears. _

_Quinn seemed to be choosing her words carefully, muttering them to herself before saying them loud enough for Brittany to hear. She knew Quinn was preserving Santana's feeling as well as her own. "Have you ever thought about, mentioning it to…him? Bringing it up?"_

_Pulling her head up, Brittany shook it and added, "I don't think that would go over too well." _

"_Why not?" Quinn asked._

"_You know __**Artie**__, Quinn."_

"_Maybe you will be surprised." Quinn argued softly and stroked a strand of Brittany's hair. _

Artie's booming voice brought her back into the present and she looked back to see him yelling into his cell phone. "No-no-no Mike, it's on level 6." He paused. "Because I know much more about it than you do. I play it every night." Another pause. "Fine come over and I'll show you." Brittany raised her eyebrows and he smiled sympathetically. "Later." He shut his phone and grabbed her hand. "You don't mind if Mike comes over for a little bit do you?"

She smiled sweetly and shook her head, "No. I actually have to go home and take Lord Tubbington for a walk. Santana said he needs the exercise."

"He's a cat Brittany." Artie eyed her skeptically as she stood from the bed.

"So?" She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Cats can't walk on the treadmill?"

* * *

><p>"So what do we do?" Santana yelled across Kurt's room where he was chatting with Blaine on the computer. He didn't answer her. "Kurt!" She yelled again and threw her magazine, effectively smacking him in the back of the head.<p>

"Really?" He bellowed back and closed his laptop. "How old are you?"

"Maybe you should answer me when I ask you a question then Hummel."

He crossed the room and stretched out on his bed. "Maybe I don't feel like answering questions about something that is none of my—or your—business."

"Sam and the midget are _your_ friends! And Finn is your brother. It's kind of your business." She argued and situated herself against his wooden headboard.

"Just like Quinn is _your _friend, and you shouldn't be meddling." Kurt rolled onto his side and put his head down against the palm of his hand.

Santana put her head in her hands and groaned, "You are so frustrating!"

"Do you think maybe you're…using this as a way to avoid your own problems?" He warily asked, fearing the wrath he knew he was bringing upon himself.

From her lap, she firmly stated, "Don't go there Kurt."

"I think I will _go there_." She looked up at him with fury in her dark eyes. "You put it off every time I bring it up and I think it might be _helpful_ to talk about it." Santana still glared at him silently. "I might think about helping you if you talk to me first."

Knowing there was no way out of it if she wanted his help, she relented, "What?"

"First off…how _exactly _do you feel about her?" He inquired and kept his words undemanding, trying to ease the situation.

"Who?" Santana played dumb and kept her face expressionless.

"Really?" Kurt sounded impatient this time and she smirked at him.

"She's my best friend." Her words came out short and she tried her best to stay stone-faced.

"And?"

"And what? I trust her with more than I do anyone else, she makes me happy when the rest of the world is shitty and boring, and I honestly don't know where I'd be if I never met her." The words flowed uncomfortably from her mouth and she regretted letting them pass her lips.

She watched Kurt fight the adoring smile off of his face and waited for another question.

"Do you two ever hookup?" She was shocked of the boldness in his words and chuckled.

"Why? Need an image to get off to?" She winked at him teasingly.

Kurt smirked and shook his head, "I think we both know how well _that_ would work for me."

"Trust me, I work wonders for guys _and _girls."

"So is that a yes?" He brought the conversation back to point and Santana nodded her answer. "Do you talk about it?"

"Nope. It's just sex. We are both very clear about that." Her voice faltered in the slightest and Kurt caught it.

"Is it?" He probed.

Standing up from the bed, Santana grabbed her purse. "I think that's enough talking for today." Kurt caught her hand before she had a chance to walk away.

"Santana…" Kurt sighed. She saw the defeat written across his brow and urged him to let her go. He released his grip and said, "I think you should do something about it."

"About what?" Her patience was running low at this point and the only thing she wanted to do was turn her back and leave. She came here to get help about the Quinn situation but ended up unintelligibly pouring out her secrets and the fact that Kurt pushed only made her angrier with every second spent in his presence.

"Quinn and Finn. Those two are always responsible for screwing with so many people. If something is going on, I don't think they should get away with it again."

A plan started to form in her mind and Santana smiled gratefully.

"Don't worry they won't."

* * *

><p>"That's not the point Santana…" Brittany was sitting behind Santana on her bed and leaning backwards into the wall. Santana was flipping through a magazine she found discarded between the covers on the bed.<p>

"Why?" she tossed the book to the ground and turned around to face Brittany.

"Quinn is our friend and we don't know what she's doing." Brittany reasoned and pulled Santana back into her. She wrapped both arms around her waist and squeezed her tight.

"_Rachel_ is also our friend," Brittany was surprised to hear Rachel and friend in the same sentence when it came out of Santana's mouth but decided to let her finish, "and Quinn could be screwing her over."

"Or Quinn could have a good reason for it." Santana pulled out of her arms and stood, pacing the room.

"Yeah I'm sure there are plenty of good reasons for kissing your ex-boyfriend when you just started dating _a girl_, and more importantly a girl that you've been in love with forever." Her eyes lingered on Brittany when she spouted those last few words and she hoped the other girl didn't notice before she could snap herself out of it.

Brittany stood up and grabbed her hand, leading her to sit on the bed once again. "I just don't think you should get involved."

"Well B, I wasn't really asking for your approval." Her words were biting but she continued without a hint of remorse. "I just came here to tell you what I planned to do because you asked me to."

Brittany pushed Santana's hand out of her grip and it was her turn to stand. "No, I asked you to not hurt any of our friends Santana. And that's exactly what you're doing."

"I'm not hurting anyone B! I'm gonna help Quinn since she never does the right thing _and_ Rachel won't have to get hurt by whatever Quinn is planning." Santana peered up at Brittany's scowling blue eyes and hated being the one to upset her but she couldn't find any other way to explain it to the girl. She knew she was doing the right thing, and wasn't going to let Brittany's pout steer her from the course.

"You know, sometimes when you are trying so hard to protect someone, you end up hurting them without even knowing you're doing it." Her words were loaded with something Santana didn't understand but she knew they weren't talking about Quinn anymore.

Looking dejectedly at the ground, Brittany tried to keep herself from letting tears pour down her face. She hadn't meant to imply anything but she still didn't regret what she had said. It was something both of them needed to hear and for the first time, the tense air seemed a little less thick than it had before.

Wordlessly, Santana climbed to her feet and stood on even ground with Brittany. "I know you mean well Britt, but I'm doing it."

* * *

><p>'<em>Today is so weird!'<em> Rachel clutched her books close to her chest and made her way through the halls of McKinley. Everyone was acting so strange in glee club and Quinn had been avoiding her. After spending most of their break together she assumed they were in a good place but as soon as they returned to school Quinn had become distant again.

Rounding a corner, Rachel came face to face with Quinn and Santana arguing in hushed voices against a row of lockers. Quinn looked like she had in glee club—deathly ill—but this time she had an added redness around her eyes that looked like she had spent a few hours crying. She wanted to go over and comfort the girl but, knowing Santana she didn't want to interrupt and patiently waited by the open door where her presence had still gone unnoticed.

"…not any of your business Santana!" Quinn yelled in a scratchy voice that could only have been from an illness.

"She's my friend Q. And what about Sam? Hmm? You are treating him like shit for no reason! You don't even want to be with him!" Santana argued back hastily. _'Who is she?' _Rachel wondered if she was talking about Brittany. _'But what did Quinn do to Brittany?'_

"For your information, Sam broke up with me. After this little stunt," Quinn gestured to herself, "he figured it out."

Santana appeared pleased with herself with the mention of this new piece of info. "Good! But that doesn't explain anything."

Rachel wanted to intervene. She wanted to tell Santana to back off and leave Quinn alone. The girl looked like she needed to go home and rest and all of this arguing couldn't be helping her get any better.

"I don't have to explain anything to you about what's going on with me and Rachel." Quinn leaned forward with her words, giving the impression that she wanted to attack Santana.

'_Me?'_ Rachel's curiosity peaked and she couldn't stop her feet from carrying her over towards the fuming pair.

"What's going on?" she demanded impatiently. Quinn looked flustered with her arrival and Santana avoided her gaze.

"I'm not talking about you and Rachel, Q. I'm talking about you and Finn." With that last blow, she left the two to stand awkwardly looking at each other.

"Finn?" Rachel questioned. Quinn angrily watched Santana stroll down the hallway with a smug stride.

"Thanks a lot Santana!" She bellowed and looked finally to Rachel's irritated eyes.

Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand and pulled her to a little alcove down the hallway where they could both sit down. "Hi…" she muttered awkwardly.

"Hey." Quinn gave back but Rachel could tell she wanted to be anywhere than there.

Letting her curiosity get the best of her she asked "What's going on Quinn?"

"Nothing Rach." She sighed and ran her hands across her face.

"Yeah this really looks like nothing." Rachel tucked a piece of hair behind Quinn's ear. "You can just tell me, you don't have to lie."

"I kissed Finn." The words fell blatantly from her mouth and she watched Rachel try to understand.

"You…kissed Finn." She repeated and averted her eyes to the ground.

"There's a reason." Quinn's voice sounded distant and forced.

"You should probably have started with the reason." Her words sounded defeated but she finally made eye contact. She saw the panic in Quinn's eyes. She was visibly shaking so Rachel made a motion with her hand to continue.

"Sam and I were together," Rachel didn't look happy with the mention of her fake boyfriend. Initially Rachel wanted Quinn to break up with him but the other girl explained that Sam had been really sweet to her and she didn't want to abruptly end things. She convinced Rachel that she would eventually. With how new their relationship was, Rachel didn't want to demand anything from Quinn and decided to leave it alone. "And Finn apparently told him that he was going to try to get back together with you. And I figured if I could intercept him, he would leave you alone."

Rachel shook her head defiantly, "That's really stupid Quinn. Even if Finn would have made some kind of advance on me, I would have denied him."

"But he would have wanted to know why. We _know_ him Rachel; he wouldn't have taken no for an answer."

"So you thought kissing him, and making him think you liked him was a smarter idea?" Rachel wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all sounded.

In a low voice Quinn muttered, "I thought you'd at least be happy I ended things with Sam."

Rachel rose from the seat, "So you could start something else with Finn? How is that supposed to make me happy?" When she didn't get an answer she went on, "I don't want you to pretend to be dating anyone else anyway Quinn. We talked about this..."

"I'm not going to do anything with him Rachel. I just needed him to stay away from you." Quinn seemed to be getting impatient and it was making Rachel even angrier. "Now we don't have any guys to worry about."

"No just Finn thinking you're in love with him." Rachel felt the entire frustration rise into her chest and she had to sit down. She leaned her forehead against Quinn's shoulder. "Please just tell me he doesn't mean anything to you; you're honestly just doing this to _help_."

"I promise you Rach. I want to be with you. _Santana_," she said her name with pure disgust, "got Sam out of my life officially and I just need Finn to stay away from you. Neither of them are a threat to us. I swear."

Rachel sighed and pecked Quinn's cheek. "I really hope so."

* * *

><p>"Santana?" Brittany nervously yelled through the Lopez house. It had taken all of her willpower to get her to walk through the front door and she didn't know if she had enough to go through with her plan. She decided to finally take Quinn's suggestion and ask Santana about everything.<p>

About _them._

No response came from the bottom floor so she walked up the staircase and headed towards Santana's room. Muffled voices came from down the hallway and she slowly approached the closed door trying to figure out who was behind it. The voices ceased for a minute or two and Brittany gained enough courage to knock lightly against the wood. She'd had enough bad experiences walking into occupied bedrooms and didn't feel like taking the chance. She heard someone walk over to the door and when it was pulled open she took in Santana's disheveled appearance. Her lips were red and evidently bitten in a few places. A fresh bruise on her neck looked inflamed and her hair was wild and messy.

"Britt?" she asked and someone stood up behind her. The shirtless figure climbed to its feet and the mess of blonde hair walked closer behind Santana.

"Hey Brittany!" Sam said cheerily. Santana turned around and pushed him farther back into the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Brittany's eyes were wide and she couldn't find any words.

"What's going on?" Santana urged Brittany to talk. She shifted uncomfortably between both feet.

Finally collecting herself enough to talk, Brittany said in a small voice, "So I'm guessing you went through it?"

Santana looked caught off guard. She looked guilty. Brittany's inner voice screamed at her to leave, but she couldn't make her feet move.

"He didn't deserve Quinn treating him like shit…" Santana said quietly; Brittany assumed so he wouldn't hear. "What are you doing here Britt?"

"I just…" she tried but couldn't say it. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. She forgot everything she wanted to say. She felt it drift to the background. "Nothing, just forget it."

"Are you sure?" Santana leaned against her doorframe awkwardly and watched Brittany.

"Yeah…we'll just…I'm gonna go. We'll talk later." Brittany made an effort to smile but didn't really care if it showed up or not.

"Yeah, okay…" Santana stood and pulled Brittany into a tiny hug. She rubbed her hand lightly across her back and Brittany felt sick. She pulled back and turned to walk away. She wanted to look back when she reached the top of the stairs but didn't.

Brittany waited until she was a few houses away to let the tears fall down her face. Collapsing against a bench in someone random front yard, she dialed Quinn's number and silently sobbed until it picked up on her end.

"Britt? What's wrong?"

Her words got muffled in her throat and she sniffed loud enough for Quinn to hear.

"Where are you?" Quinn sounded distressed and like she was rushing around hurriedly. Another quieter voice asked questions and Brittany assumed it must have been Rachel.

She muttered the street name clearly enough for Quinn to hear and hung up the phone. Her crying subsided after what seemed like forever and eventually Quinn pulled up in front of the house. Rachel was in the back seat and rushed out to help Brittany to the car. Her legs felt wobbly under her weight and she wanted nothing more than to just forget the last hour had even happened. She wanted to forget making the decision to go over to Santana's. Wanted to forget what she looked like opening her door. And wanted to forget seeing Sam in her bedroom.

It just wasn't fair.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Everything is going to come out in the next chapter...haha...see what I did there :)

Still not too sure about this chapter but let me know what you thought.

Thanks for reading :)


	26. i just want you

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I probably should have broken this up but I've had a chapter longer than this so oh well but anyways a lot of stuff happens! Brittana's mom explanation, meeting Santana's aunt (the teacher of the pinkie lock if you remember from chapter 3 or 4), Hurt Locker, dash of faberry, and finished off with a Quinntana pow-wow. (yeah I just said pow-wow) I hope you enjoy because I tried to do this chapter justice. Thanks :) Now go read!  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana left the choir room, pinkies linked, and headed towards the lunch room. Brittany fought with the idea that they'd be meeting Sam while Santana dreaded another meal spent with Artie. They glanced sideways at each other at the same time and smiled together; both silently grateful for the relief just knowing they had one another.<p>

Santana thought about how good it felt to see a smile made only for her. Brittany was notably a bubbly person and it was hard to find a time she wasn't grinning from ear to ear. But this adoring affection—her lips curved upwards as far as they would go and piercing blue eyes overflowing with delight—wasn't just for anybody to see. It was hers.

On the opposing end, smiles were few and far between for Santana. Brittany knew that even her parents were lucky to catch a glimpse of one, but for her it was never the case. A smile from Santana was the ultimate vulnerability. She let her defenses down around Brittany and Brittany alone. On rare occasions she would smile in glee club, but Brittany knew they were forced. Not to say that she wasn't enjoying herself, but Santana had to force herself to let those moments overwhelm her. With Brittany, she didn't have to try. Brittany knew Santana was at ease around her.

Startling them from their trance, Tina caught up with them, "Mr. Schue is starting to get a little creepy with our glee assignments."

Santana suppressed a chuckle, "He's always been creepy. For one, doesn't he have any adult friends? And two, he's tried to get with almost every mildly attractive female that comes knocking on the choir room door." She had a chill go up her spine, "Even Coach Sue."

"They could have bonded over their atrocious hair," Brittany commented and the two other girls laughed.

"But 'sexy?' Really? That's a little weird of an assignment even if he's trying to teach us about sex. And considering he's not a health teacher, it's even weirder." Tina shook her head as if she were trying to shake the idea from her mind.

Coming to a halt at the entrance to the cafeteria, Santana turned to Tina, "Mark my words girl-Chang, he is only doing this assignment to get all up in Ms. Holiday's business. If he hasn't hit that by the end of the week, I'll shave my eyebrows off."

Studying Santana's face, Brittany whispered quietly, "Don't you mean erase?" Santana looked indignantly at her and Tina couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll see you guys later." She chuckled and walked into the lunch room.

"Thanks Britt." Santana looped her arm through Brittany's and led them into the cafeteria. Seeing the table where Tina, Mike, Artie and Sam were already seated, she pulled Brittany towards the lunch line.

"I like Ms. Holiday." Brittany said suddenly. "I liked that song. Cause when she's singing 'do you wanna touch' in my head I was thinking, yeah I definitely do. " Santana flushed red with embarrassment. "That leather was so hot."

"Brittany!" Santana hissed, cheeks burning from the stares the two were receiving. Detaching their arms, she grabbed her tray of food and walked away to the table where all of their friends—and boyfriends—sat.

Brittany watched her go and frowned, not understanding what she said wrong. _'She **was** hot?'_ Brittany mused and picked up her tray to follow Santana's trail.

* * *

><p>Quinn had Rachel pushed up against a set of lockers in the Cheerio's locker room. Her hands gripped Rachel's waist tightly and she attached her lips to the girl's neck when she made a whimper that sounded like she was trying to talk.<p>

"We can't be in here right now Quinn…" Rachel husked. Her leg clearly wasn't following her orders when it came up to rest against Quinn's hip.

"Mmm…Cheerio's don't have practice until 3. No one's going to come in here." She pulled Rachel closer.

Rachel tried to clear her head. They were at school in the locker room, which mostly likely was crawling with germs; she felt like Ms. Pillsbury. _'At least it's not the boys room,'_ the thought made Rachel chuckle.

Quinn pulled back with a grin on her face. "What are you thinking about?"

Rachel shrugged her shoulders, "Can we go back to lunch now? People are going to realize we're gone."

"And?" Quinn nuzzled into Rachel's neck and admired her work. Rachel was going to need a reason for all of those bite marks. _'Animal attack?'_ she thought, wondering if their friends would believe it; probably.

"As much as I wouldn't mind people knowing about us, I feel like _you_ would be the concerned one here."

"Subtle," Quinn pulled back and put a little space between them, "Have something you want to say?"

"Not at all," Rachel started, "_Actually_, speaking of that, I noticed Finn asked you to come over after school."

Quinn deeply sighed and dropped to sit on the bench. Suddenly she prayed for someone to walk into the room, it would at least give her a reason to leave. "Is that a question?" she tried.

Narrowing her eyes, Rachel tapped her foot impatiently. Quinn looked up and knew there was no easy way out of this situation.

"Yes, I'm going to go over to Finn's, which I assume is what you are asking."

"You're unbelievable." Rachel said quietly. Her tone was riddled with accusation.

"What do you want from me?" Standing now, Quinn challenged Rachel. She had enough with all of the backhanded comments. "I'm doing this for you."

Rachel stepped forward angrily, "Stop using that as your excuse! I don't want you to be dating anybody else. I want you to be dating me."

"I am." Quinn pleaded and tried to grab Rachel's hand.

Rachel pulled out of Quinn's reach and left the room without another word.

Letting her head fall against the cool metal of the locker, Quinn sighed.

* * *

><p>Quinn showed up late to their Spanish class and sat down next to Brittany. She looked around the room and saw no trace of Santana. "Where's Santana?" she asked the girl who was scribbling mindlessly in her notebook.<p>

"I'm not sure," Brittany didn't look up from the desktop, "I haven't seen her since 5th period."

"She knows we have glee after school right?" Quinn asked. It wasn't all that uncommon for Santana to ditch school, but not on a day they had practice.

Brittany pushed out a heavy breath and dropped the pen, "_I don't know_ Quinn."

Quinn was taken aback. Brittany still hadn't made eye contact but she could notice the outside of her eyes reddening. "What's going on?"

Clenching her eyes closed, Brittany huffed out, "Can we please not talk about it?"

Before she got a chance to answer, Mr. Schuester called the class together and started going through his lesson. Quinn side-eyed Brittany and watched to make sure she wasn't crying. She pulled a piece of paper from her backpack and wrote out a message to Brittany. When she was done, she slid the paper across the desk and hoped Brittany would respond.

_You can tell me B_

Brittany stared down at the paper and debated recalling the events that had taken place after lunch. As much as Quinn was pushing, she knew the girl only wanted to help so she started writing down everything that had happened.

_5__th__ period was a free bell Brittany and Santana shared. Originally it was reserved for going over Cheerio's routines with Sue, but now that they had quit the team they had an hour to do whatever they wanted. Most days they ended up on the bleachers overlooking the field and watched the cheerleading practices anyways. Brittany liked to watch them dance, and spent a lot of time critiquing them from afar, while Santana spent most of the time picking out their flaws and going so far as to yell insults at them. Coach Sylvester didn't seem to mind the interruptions, because most of the time they were words she was using about the team anyway. Brittany thought sometimes she even saw her smile at the regular abuse._

_Today, Santana was uncharacteristically quiet and simply scanned the field. Brittany, sensing the tension, tried to think of a neutral topic they could discuss. Her mind went to their new glee assignment. She loved performing that song with Santana and Ms. Holiday; she figured if they had to pick another song, they should do it together. But last time Brittany suggested they do a song together, Santana shut her down. She hoped she would be a little more open to the suggestion this time. _

"_Hey Santana?" Brittany started, turning her attention away from the Cheerio's._

"_Yeah?" Santana asked, still staring out onto the field._

_Brittany tried to think of the best way to approach this conversation. "You know how we have to do a song for glee?" _

_Santana seemed to tense up but gave Brittany her full attention. She turned her body on the metal bleachers so her back was against the chain-link fence. "What about it B?"_

"_I was thinking we could do a song together. Like how we sang together today." _

_Brittany noticed Santana's hands start to tremble in the slightest and she pulled them together; playing with her fingers absently. "That song was a little…"_

"_Awkward?" Brittany offered. Santana nodded her head nervously. "I was gonna suggest we do something a little toned down. I know Artie and Puck will probably do something graphic and disturbing," Santana laughed anxiously, "and we don't have to be sexual to be sexy." _

"_Did you have a song?" Brittany was cheerful to see Santana was keeping an open mind. _

_Brittany knew this was going to be the game changer. For weeks she had been trying to find subtle ways to take Quinn's advice and attempt to talk to Santana. Sam's introduction into their lives had been a large obstacle, but she needed to get it off her chest before they became something serious. _

"_I was thinking maybe, _Landslide?_" The tension between them seemed to amplify. Brittany thought this would be a good segue, and it was definitely a lot less direct than _Come to My Window_ but Santana looked like she was freaking out none the less._

_Santana's mouth opened and shut a few times, words obviously failing to form. Brittany couldn't do anything but wait; she decided this was it and no matter what Santana said, she was getting some answers. _

"_Brittany, that's not really a song…t-that two friends sing…" The word 'friends' was clearly emphasized and Brittany shrugged off the implication. "_Do You Wanna Touch _was playful and fun, but that's a little more serious."_

"_That's actually something that I wanted to talk to you about…" Brittany started and Santana was getting clearly more and more uncomfortable by the minute. _

"_What do you mean?" Her voice was breathy and she clenched her hands together a little tighter. Brittany could see how clammy they were from a foot away._

"_I want to talk about 'us.' We've been friends forever San, and I think we both understand that our 'friendship' isn't normal." _

_Santana scrunched up her face in confusion, "I still don't understand." _

"_Yes you do. I know we don't talk about it and we say it's just sex, but I don't want to do that anymore." Brittany edged closer and ignored the tiny inch Santana moved backwards. _

"_So we can stop then." Santana said firmly. "It's not like it means anything. It's just what girls do." _

_Brittany shook her head, "No it isn't. I don't want to stop. I just want to talk about what it means to both of us." _

_Clearing her throat, Santana said, "It doesn't mea—"_

_Brittany cut her off, "Yes it does!"_

_Santana stood up in a huff, "No it doesn't Britt! I told you that from the start, it's just sex, no feelings. That's how it's always been." _

_Brittany felt the tears gathering near the edges of her eyes, "I just think we should talk about it." _

"_There's nothing to talk about." Santana picked up her backpack and slipped it over her arms. Brittany felt her staring and looked up. Santana was grimacing at the obvious pain on her expression and the longer she looked, the more it seemed Santana's features softened. "Brittany, I'm sorry okay? We can sing that song if you want."_

"_You don't have to." Brittany spat remorsefully. _

"_No, I –" Brittany cut her off again and grabbed her books from where they sat on the bleachers._

"_No really Santana, you don't have to." She marched down the stairs and left Santana to watch her go._

Quinn read over the brief summary Brittany had written out for her and shook her head multiple times. _'Damn it Santana…_' she thought. Brittany finally had the courage to talk to her about everything and she threw it back in her face.

She wrote back. _I'm really sorry. I didn't think she'd freak out like that._

Brittany grabbed the paper and started scribbling down a response. Quinn thought the pencil would break with how hard she was writing.

_I told you and I told Kurt. I knew this would happen. But you both had to push._

'_She told Kurt?'_ Quinn wondered.

_B, she'll come around. I promise. You're the one person Santana loves and trusts in this world. _

Brittany scoffed when she read the answer. Quinn was surprised by how unusual Brittany was acting.

_Well she has an awesome way of showing it Q._

Quinn saw that Brittany was trying so hard to hold back tears of frustration. Mr. Schuester walked past their table and Quinn quickly grabbed the paper and slid it under her binder. When she made sure he was gone, she pulled it back out and thoughtfully tapped her pencil against her chin.

_I can do the song with you if you want B?_

Brittany wrote back, _It's fine. I already asked Ms. H to do it with me. _

_I'm sure you'll be wonderful, _Quinn replied.

Brittany nodded her head and crumpled the paper up, signifying she was done with the conversation. With one last sympathetic smile, Quinn left Brittany alone for the rest of her class. She pulled out her phone and ignored the few texts Rachel had sent her apologizing for earlier and typed out a new message to Santana. She honestly didn't care if she got a response but couldn't resist.

**(2:46 PM): **You're a real asshole you know that?

* * *

><p>Santana threw her cell phone across the lawn and sunk back into the bench she was sitting on. A door opened nearby and a cold bottle was thrust into her face.<p>

"You should be a little more careful with that, I don't think your mama wants to pay for a new phone." Santana's aunt Carmen teased, dropping the beer into her niece's hand.

"_You_ should be careful. What are you gonna do when Mama finds out you're giving me alcohol?" Santana chugged the drink and ignored her instinctual cringe at the taste.

Santana's aunt had always been a huge part of her childhood. The two bore a striking resemblance—burning brown eyes and dark, flowing hair—even more than Santana shared with her mother. Maria's relationship with her sister was often on shaky-ground, but when Santana was first introduced to Carmen at the age of 4, she had an instant connection. Carmen, not having any children of her own, spoiled Santana even more than her own parents did. But Santana didn't care about the gifts. She loved her aunt, sometimes she thought even more than she loved her mom, and craved her attention. And Carmen was very willing to give it.

"I have a feeling you won't have a hard time keeping the secret," Carmen winked and sat down on the bench. She made a show of propping up her feet on Santana's lap and chuckled watching Santana slap them away playfully.

"So what's on your mind, cariño?" Carmen asked.

Raising the chilled bottle to her lips once more, Santana poured another large chug down her throat. She wiped her hand across her lips and dried it against the cotton dress clinging tightly to her skin. The liquid seemed resilient to settle in. "I don't really wanna talk about it Tía."

Carmen laughed, "Yes you do, or else you wouldn't be here."

When the girl refused to answer her again, Carmen grabbed the beer from her hand and tilted the neck towards the ground. "Spill or I will," she threatened and Santana sneered at her.

"You're the one wasting a beer, not me." Santana crossed her arms and stared back towards the grass. She was grateful winter was coming to a close and it was getting a little warmer out.

Carmen moved the drink over her niece's head. "How about now?"

Santana pushed her arm away and chuckled, "Fine. I got into an argument with Britt today."

Handing the drink back, Carmen picked up her own and took a hearty gulp. "Some guy?" she asked.

"No!" Santana shouted, "Britt and I don't ever fight about guys….well….not in the way you mean."

Carmen chuckled and Santana didn't like how smug it sounded. She turned on her aunt and demanded, "What?"

"I don't know how else to say this, but, you know you can tell me anything right? _Anything._" She offered.

Santana settled back down into her seat, "Like what?"

Carmen let out a frustrated sigh and put her drink down on the small wooden table next to her, "Alright Santana," Santana's heart pounded, "you and I are always honest with each other. Straightforward?" Santana nodded. "I know what goes on between you and Brittany."

Her heart dropped in her chest. That persistent urge to bolt flashed through her brain but fear glued her ass to the bench. She scanned every inch of her aunt's face, praying she didn't mean what she was thinking. But there was no use. It was evident in every stare that Carmen knew.

"You don't have to freak out Santana. It doesn't matter to me." She picked up her bottle and motioned it towards Santana, encouraging her to have another drink.

Santana downed what was left in her drink and grabbed another laid out on the side table closest to her. Carmen handed her a bottle opener and she popped the lid, content to drink another large quantity from the new beer.

"Easy. I'll let you drink but you're not getting blackout drunk on my watch." Carmen jibbed, waiting for her to calm down.

Nodding nervously, Santana dropped her drink to her lap and looked over to study her aunt's facial expression. True to her word, it didn't seem like it made a difference. _'So she knows Britts and I make out a little, what's the harm?_' she thought.

"How did you…um…how do you know?" Santana wondered aloud.

Carmen looked off and shook her head at what appeared to be a distant memory, "For one, just because a door is closed, doesn't mean all noises are subdued." _'Unless you're Berry and have rooms soundproofed_,' Santana thought remembering that particular benefit to a sleepover at the Berry's. "Also, you're not the first person I've seen go through this."

"What do you mean?" Santana prodded. Her words seemed too loaded to lack explanation.

"Have you talked to your mom about this at all?"

Santana was confused. "Mom? Why?"

Backpedaling, Carmen shook her head, "I don't think I should be the one to tell you about this…"

"Tía, please?" Santana begged. She had no idea what her mom had to do with this but if it could relate to her situation in anyway, she wanted to hear it.

Carmen relented, "When I was 19, Maria was what? 16? 17? Anyways, I was home for the weekend visiting, I accidentally stumbled into your mom's room while she was…" She bugged out her eyes and Santana understood it.

Santana chuckled, "With who? Papi?"

While shaking her head, Carmen stood and motioned for Santana to follow her into the house. The inside was nothing like the pristine condition of the Lopez's. It reminded Santana more of Brittany's house; warmer, more welcoming, and unorganized. Carmen led her to the living room and they both took a seat on the faded, brown leather couch. Santana kicked her shoes off and pulled her legs up underneath her.

When they were both settled, Carmen continued. "Do you know a lot about Brittany's mom and your mom? Where they met and all that?"

Santana couldn't help but smile at the mention of Brittany before remembering after today she didn't really have that right and answered, "Just that they were really young and have been best friends since. Kinda like me and Britt."

"Actually a lot like you and Brittany. I used to play soccer with a few kids down the street from your abuelita's and when your mom was 3 or 4 I took her with me. One of the older boys, Jimmy," Santana recognized the name; Brittany had an uncle Jimmy who died a few years before from a heart attack, "was yelling at his sister to stay put while he played. I led Maria to the young girl and told them to play together."

"Anna," Santana provided and Carmen nodded her head accordingly.

"They were inseparable from that point. Like you and Brittany. To get back what I was saying earlier, I didn't find your mom with Victor, I found her with Anna."

Santana's eyes widened in confusion and disbelief, "You found them doing what?"

"Doing what you and Brittany do." Carmen said softly, trying to reassure the girl.

"Yeah right," Santana laughed. There was no way her mom and Brittany's mom were anything like them in that way. Maria only had eyes for Victor and they same could be said for Tony and Anna. But then Santana remembered the conversation she had with Anna a few months back.

_"We were inseparable, like you and Brittany. You're mom and I, we were the ultimate pair."_

She wouldn't believe it. Santana could only laugh. She laughed until Carmen stared at her worriedly. "That's ridiculous," she finally got out between laughter.

"Maybe ridiculous, but also true."

"They're both married. To _men_." Santana rested her head against the back of the couch and chuckled some more.

"Trust me; they didn't want to be at some point. They only wanted each other. I offered them my place in New York after they graduated. I was moving in with Derek anyway, I figured they could start over there and live how they wanted to without people finding out."

"So what happened?" Santana asked. She was still in disbelief, but the story kept getting more and more obscene, so much so that she was starting to believe it.

Carmen looked down at her hands uncomfortably, "They were there a couple of months before Papa found out. When I moved back in, he noticed I was sending away money every month for them to live and demanded to know who was receiving it. He threatened me until I told him. He drove to the city and showed up on their doorstep. When he saw how the two of them were living—one bed, not to mention they were practically naked when he showed up—he snapped and drug Maria out of the house and into the car. I had to drive up and get Anna. She was a mess when I got there. We drove back to Lima and I took her home. Her mom and dad didn't look disappointed, as I expected from Papa's response, but just sympathetic and welcomed her back with open arms."

The moment seemed entirely too heavy for Carmen to handle and Santana spoke to give her a little reprieve. "Brittany's mom has always been too nice to me. I guess I understand why now."

"Anna may have a place for you in her heart that was carved out by your mother. But make no mistake, she loves you for who you are to Brittany too." Carmen linked her pinky with Santana's. The move was altogether her own; Santana had stolen it to use with Brittany all those years ago. But now the gesture lacked comfort and only made Santana queasy.

"I'm not as good to Brittany as everyone thinks…" Santana muttered helplessly.

"What happened today?" Carmen inquired. She didn't flinch when Santana dropped her finger.

"She wanted to tell me about her feelings about us," Santana started, "but I bolted."

"Why? Don't you feel the same way?"

Santana thought about it. "It's Brittany, Carmen. I love Brittany. I always have. I just never thought what we were doing was more than that. I always just thought the…love…was just our friendship, you know?"

"And what about now?" Carmen asked.

"I don't know. We've never talked about it before."

"Isn't that what she was trying to do though? Why didn't you hear her out?"

Santana was trying to quell the anger rising in the pit of her stomach but a little seeped through, "We have boyfriends Carmen. What good will come out of it, other than maybe admitting something that we can do nothing about?"

"You don't believe that," Santana stared to object but a hand silenced her, "No! I know you don't believe that because if you did you would have just told her that. Something I know about you is that when things start to get too complicated, you run."

"Thank you for that _thrilling_ insight," Santana barked.

"Santana, _please_. I'm not telling you to profess your undying love for Brittany, but take some time and think about it. Is it really that hard to imagine maybe she wants exactly what you want?" Carmen saw her words were pushing Santana away but they needed to be said.

"How do you know what I want? Is it hard to imagine that maybe I _don't_ love Brittany? That maybe everything that's happened between us is just friends messing around." Santana stood on uneven ground; saying things she didn't wholly believe but were coming as easy to her as insults. They even left a bad taste on her tongue.

"I'm not telling you what to feel cariño, just to figure out what you _are_ feeling. If not for yourself, then because you owe it to that sweet girl." Carmen stood, indicating this conversation was at least over for now. Santana guessed it wasn't so much that her aunt didn't want to keep talking, but sensed that she needed the break.

Before she got too far, Santana asked, "So how did they end up with Papi and Tony?"

"Maria met Victor at mass when she snuck into the vestry to drink the wine," Carmen smiled when she saw the smirk form on Santana's face, "Tony had always been around. Waiting on the wings for Anna to notice him." With that last thought, Carmen left Santana alone in the room.

Santana felt bad for Tony. It was total unrequited love on his part for _more than one_ reason. Under an impending feeling of guilt, Santana thought about how unfair it would be for Brittany to wait for **her** if their cases were similar; and part of her realized that it wasn't all too different.

* * *

><p>The next school day started slowly. It took every ounce of willpower for Santana to drag herself out of bed and get ready to face the day. After her conversation with Carmen, she knew she needed to let Brittany explain herself and she knew the perfect way to start; by agreeing to sing the song with her. Santana knew Brittany loved performing, whether she was dancing <em>or<em> singing, and if it could help them get back on track, she would do it. For Brittany.

The only thing she had to do was find the girl. Brittany must have been trying to stay out of sight because Santana had been at school for 2 hours and still couldn't find her. Walking down the back hallway near the exit to the field, Santana found her. She was talking in a quiet voice with Rachel and Mercedes, the other two girls seemingly more animated than she was. Forcing her feet to move forward, and taking a much needed breath to steady herself, Santana trotted down the hallway toward the trio.

"Hey…Brittany, can I talk to you for a second." Rachel and Mercedes looked at each other awkwardly. Rachel gave Brittany's arm a firm squeeze before muttering a small goodbye.

Brittany stared at her feet, "What do you want Santana?"

"Can you at least look at me?" Santana pleaded. Brittany begrudgingly obeyed and raised her eyes to match Santana's. The discomfort in her eyes was evident, and she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else at that moment.

"I want to sing that song with you. For glee club." Santana said firmly.

Brittany's eyes hardened, "I told you that you didn't have to…"

"But I want to…" Santana argued calmly. She needed to be patient, she knew she wouldn't get anywhere by yelling.

"Santana," Brittany started but was cut off.

"No-no, look Britt—Brittany," it felt wrong to use a nickname, "You asked me to sing with you, and I know it's important to you, so I want to do it." The next bit took a little more effort on Santana's part but it needed to be said, "Maybe after we can have that talk you wanted."

A little of the edge in Brittany's eyes melted away as she watched Santana talk. She watched her fight the tiny smile that threatened to appear. _'Of course she wants to smile, it's Brittany,' _Santana thought happily. It was the first indication that things might go a little back to normal.

She realized that a lot of time had passed since she was finished speaking and asked timidly, "So what do you think?"

"What about Ms. Holiday?" Brittany asked, finally letting the corners of her lips to turn up.

Santana shrugged her shoulders, "She can sing it with us. She'll give us a lot of added sexiness," she purred the word, "Not like we need it."

"Okay," Brittany agreed and wrapped her arms around Santana. It was so warm in Brittany's embrace. It seemed like way too long since the last time she felt this comfort. A lot of the uneasiness seemed to melt away and Santana pulled her closer. "But we have to talk S."

"I promise." Santana squeezed her tighter.

* * *

><p>It took everything in Santana to not bolt directly after glee club. <em>'Fucking Berry,<em>' she thought angrily, _'why did she have to open her stupid mouth?_'

_Brittany pulled Santana into a close hug."Thank you," she whispered against Brittany's shoulder and felt Brittany's grip tighten. _

_Rachel spoke from somewhere behind them. "…exploring the uncharted world of Sapphic charm. Brava, Brava."_

_Her words seemed to shift everyone's stare—well not Sam or Finn's; they looked as oblivious as ever—and everyone looked uncomfortable. Those words seemed to kick-start everyone's brains into understanding what was happening in front of them. Quinn and Ms. Holiday were the only ones looking sympathetic, while everyone else just looked like they had stumbled onto a juicy secret._

_Words flowed from her mouth before Santana had a chance to stop them, "Just because I sang a song with Brittany," her words were pointed at Rachel who was no longer so sure of herself, "doesn't mean you get to put a label on me." With one last sad glance at Brittany, she darted from the room. She needed to get away from that room, and out of these stupid clothes, and forget that last moment ever happened. _

After pacing the halls until the bell rang and the period ended, Santana knew she needed to find Brittany. It was now or never.

Santana slowly approached Brittany who was standing at her locker. "Hey B…"

Brittany dropped the last book into her locker and smiled sweetly, "Hey, whats up?"

"Can we talk?" Santana asked brusquely.

Looking around the hallway, Brittany wondered, "Here? There's people everywhere."

In all honesty, Santana didn't want to do it anywhere else. For some odd reason she felt like their classmates would provide a buffer in case something went wrong. "I know but I just want to get this out there now. So I don't…you know."

"Lock up and run?" Brittany muttered hesitantly. Santana only nodded her head. "Okay then…"

"Britt…you're the most important thing in the world to me," she paused heavily, "When we were little I never cared about what anyone thought about me as long as you liked me. As long as I had your approval, nothing else mattered. But when we got here," she motioned around the building, "everything changed. We had to make sure everyone here liked us, or in my case _feared_ us."

Brittany cut in, "I don't understand what this has to do with us?"

"Just let me finish okay?" Santana begged and grabbed Brittany's hand and gave it a squeeze. Brittany nodded and she let their hands drop. "Anyway, every minute here is a minute I feel guarded and defensive, afraid of what everyone will say about me. And I think I let that get in the way of showing how I really feel about people. About _you." _Brittany was hooked; she hung off Santana's every word now. "And even if I'm not honest with myself, I owe it to be honest with you. So I will be. Starting now."

She paused again and Brittany looked compelled to add another "Okay" to fill the silence.

"I love you Brittany," she whispered heavily. "I want you more than I've wanted anyone in my whole life. I think I've known forever. I've known since you kissed me in 5th grade." Her heart pounded in her head and her stomach flipped over several times in her stomach. They were both tearing up now, Brittany smiled through her tears and Santana just felt exhausted.

Xx

Everything she said made Brittany's heart burst open. It was all she wanted, to hear Santana felt the same way about her that she did. She could see how hard it was for the girl, she noticed every shiver that was telltale of Santana's running instinct. Santana loved her. Her smile grew just thinking the words. But then she remembered that she wasn't the only one who loved her.

'_Artie,'_ Brittany thought regretfully. He loved her. And as much as she loved Santana back, it didn't change the fact that she also loved Artie. And they were together. Then she thought about Sam. He had just gotten out of a bad breakup with Quinn and it would be devastating for him to lose another girlfriend so soon. But now Santana was staring at her grimly, like she could sense what she was thinking. The tears started to pour out of dim chocolate eyes more heavily.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Santana hoarsely pleaded, "Please say you love me back?"

It broke Brittany's heart. This is what she asked for; for Santana to finally be honest with her and she was the one who would screw everything up. But she had to do what was right. "I love you, Santana, I really, really do. You have to know that. But that doesn't change that I love Artie too. And you have Sam."

Santana's face twisted in confusion. Betrayal, hurt, anger; Brittany saw them all pass in only a few seconds. "Artie? I-I don't want Sam…" the tears were coming heavier, "I want you, Brittany."

"I love you, please San, I really do." She tried to wrap the girl in her arms but Santana pushed her back.

"It's not enough." Santana wiped the tears off of her face and stalked the opposite way down the hall.

There wasn't much Brittany could do but watch her leave.

* * *

><p>Quinn stared angrily at her phone; it had gone off 6 or 7 times in the last few minutes. Rachel noticed it too but was too content cuddled close against Quinn's chest to say anything about it. They both were secretly hoping the movie would pick up so the persistent noise would be covered.<p>

After it vibrated 3 or 4 more times, Rachel finally broke the silence, "Maybe you should look at it."

Quinn looked down at Rachel's head, "It could be Finn." She felt the girl tense in her arms and squeezed her tighter.

"It could be important." Rachel noted and pushed away from Quinn to pick up the phone.

"Like what? His Xbox broke?" She snickered at her own joke.

Rachel flipped through a few screens to make sure they were all from the same person, "It's not Finn."

Quinn sat up and pulled the blanket off of her legs. "Who is it?"

"Santana," Rachel squinted at the screen trying to decipher the messages, "I think she might be sitting on her phone or something. These don't make any sense." She had an a-ha look and read one out loud, "_Britts…_umm…_Wheels…._does she mean Artie?" Rachel questioned and Quinn nodded, "_cm gets me? _I think she wants you to pick her up or something?"

Quinn grabbed the phone and scrolled through a few more messages and realized she had received a few messages like this from Santana, "She's drunk." A couple more texts read similar to the one Rachel read out loud, "I think we should go get her. She seems upset."

"About Brittany and Artie?" Rachel wondered and then it both hit them simultaneously. "Text her and figure out where she is, I'll get our coats."

Quinn stayed still on the couch, "Do you think she told Brittany?"

Freezing from her place by the coat rack in the corner of her bedroom, Rachel answered, "And Brittany wouldn't break up with Artie? Yeah I do. I saw Brittany leaving school today and she didn't look so good."

Walking over to her girlfriend and planting a firm kiss on her lips, Quinn took her jacket, "Let's go."

Xx

They pulled up to the address Santana had texted them and realized they were at the park. If Santana wouldn't had told Quinn where she was, it would have been the first place to check anyways. Brittany and she always seemed to have some weird connection to the park that she never bothered to understand.

Rachel climbed out of the car and wrapped her brown sweater tight around her body. Quinn followed her and the two walked through the park silently. They caught sight of Santana almost instantly rocking back and forth wildly on a rusty swing-set wearing a bright, form-fitting green dress. Her black high-heels were strewn far off in front of her, like she had kicked them off on one high swing. The two padded softly over to her and finally caught her attention.

"Quinnie!" she yelled and sprung forward from the swing into Quinn's arms. The impact was heavy and Quinn struggled to stay upright.

"What's going on S?" Quinn asked through labored breaths. Santana was holding her so tight it was hard to breathe.

Santana pulled back and noticed Rachel. She flung her arms around her abruptly and squeezed. "Rachel! Thank you so so much for coming. I knew I liked you for a reason."

Rachel gave Quinn an amused grin and patted Santana on the back. "No problem Santana, now why don't you tell us what happened?"

Santana stepped backwards and motioned for them to follow her. She stumbled to a nearby picnic table that held two different bottles of liquor. Rachel managed to grab both of her shoes on the way and set them in front of the girl. Picking up the bottle of what Quinn guessed was vodka, Santana offered it to the two girls generously—they both declined—and brought it to her lips. Before she could tilt it upwards, Rachel snatched it out of her hands and held it away. Santana pouted and her eyes watered up.

"Make your girl give me my booze back blondie," Santana pleaded. Quinn's eyes widened and she looked over at Rachel who didn't seem too affected by her words.

"What do you mean 'girl' Santana?" Quinn asked nervously.

Santana chuckled so hard she dipped forward and caught herself before tumbling to the ground, "I guess Barbra didn't tell you?"

Quinn looked to Rachel who was avoiding her eyes, "Tell me what?"

"That I helped her get all up on that," Santana pointed at Quinn, who blushed.

Santana had been staring at Quinn for a little to long for Rachel's liking so she interrupted them,"She just made me aware of your feelings, Quinn." Quinn nodded her head. She thought she remembered Rachel telling her that before. Rachel turned back to Santana, "And I think you've had enough for tonight."

"Let's let my liver be the judge of that," Santana reached behind her and picked up the other bottle. She sat back out of Rachel's reach and drank the darker liquid. Quinn didn't have enough experience to guess what that one was.

Quinn tipped her head towards the car, "C'mon, let's go home."

Santana climbed to her feet unsteadily and ignored her shoes as she set off towards Quinn's car. Rachel shook her head and gathered up the shoes, along with the bottle and followed Santana. All three got in and once Rachel made sure Santana was strapped in, they drove away.

"Put some music on!" Santana bellowed from the backseat and Quinn obliged with a playful smirk on her face. She played with the controls until the music was heavily focused in the back of the car and reached across the console to grab Rachel's hand.

"Do you mind if I take you home?" Quinn asked loud enough for only Rachel to hear.

Rachel shook her head with a sympathetic smile, "No I don't mind."

They drove the few blocks back to Rachel's house and Quinn killed the engine. She reached into the back seat and grabbed the bottle forcibly from Santana's hands; she gave a little bit of a struggle and curse words in protest but eventually gave up. Handing the bottle to Rachel, Quinn closed the space between them and kissed Rachel lightly. When she pulled back, she saw Santana making gagging faces in the back seat and threw a shoe at her. "Would you mind getting rid of those?" Her eyes darted to bottles and Rachel nodded.

"Maybe I'll drink them," Rachel shrugged her shoulders and Quinn laughed.

"You should hold onto them then, we can drink them together," Quinn said playfully and Santana wretched in the back seat.

"Do you want me to leave so you can pop her Berry-cherry or what Q?" Santana mocked and laid down across the seats.

Quinn's face burned red and Rachel couldn't help a tiny laugh, "Just take her home. Call me tomorrow?" Rachel pecked Quinn's warm cheek and got out of the car. She dropped the bottles into a garbage can by the garage before walking up into the house.

Quinn drove to Santana's house and helped her towards the door. It seemed like the alcohol was finally getting the best of her and she was relying heavily on Quinn's shoulder to keep her standing.

"Is the door locked?" Quinn asked.

"Is it ever?" Santana spat and twisted the knob. They two stumbled into the house and Santana wrestled out of Quinn's hands to crawl up the stairs towards her room. Quinn took this time to get a bottle of water from the fridge in the kitchen and noticed the money sitting on the table with a note telling Santana where her parents had gone for the night. When she got back to the foyer, Santana was only halfway up but still going strong. Quinn laughed and walked past her on the stairs and settled down in her friend's room. She pulled the messy covers back and admired the contrast Santana's room brought to the household. Where everything else was organized and spotless, Santana's room was in disarray and you could barely see the floor. Quinn remembered the time Santana screamed at the maid for attempting to clean it up.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited until Santana walked through the door, surprisingly on two feet, and collapsed into her bed. "Here drink this." Santana gulped down the drink and sat the empty glass on her side table. "Do you want to talk?"

Santana groaned, "About what? How I'm in love with my best friend and she'd rather roll around with a cripple than be with me?"

"Did she tell you that? Cause I can hardly imagine Brittany calling someone a cripple." Quinn teased and saw in Santana's eyes that her joke wasn't appreciated.

"Real funny Q. Hey maybe you'd like to talk about your bastard child or crippling insecurities about popularity?" Santana twisted around on the bed so her back was to Quinn.

"I think we both might have trouble with that last one, but I see your point." Quinn rubbed Santana's back. "Just tell me what happened."

"I told her I love her. She told me she loves me, but she also loves Artie." Santana started to tremble again and Quinn squeezed her shoulder.

"I'm sorry S…" Quinn supplied and Santana jerked her shoulder away from the girl's hand.

"Why? She's right. She has Artie and I have Sam. If she needed me to tell her that for some sick sense of satisfaction, well I did and now we can both go on with our lives."

Climbing into the bed behind Santana, Quinn muttered, "It's Britt S. She wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose."

Santana turned around so she was facing her, "Well even if she wasn't trying, she still succeeded." Her eyes were almost overflowing with tears and Quinn brushed away the few droplets of water around the edges.

"I know S, I know," was the only thing Quinn could think to say.

Santana coughed and cleared her throat, "So how's life with Streisand 2.0?"

"That's two Barbra Streisand jokes in one night. Are you proud of yourself?" Quinn asked with a tiny smirk.

"Shut up!" Santana smacked Quinn's shoulder, "Seriously how are things?"

"Oh you know, the usual, she doesn't want me to date Finn but she doesn't understand that he was trying to get with her."

"Is that why you're still with him?" Santana questioned.

Quinn sighed, "With Finn, it seems like no matter what he does wrong, she'll always take him back. The sooner I break up with him, the sooner he'll move on and get her back. I don't want to lose her."

"I don't think she'd do that to you." Santana suggested and turned so she was facing the ceiling.

Following Santana's lead, she rolled over onto her back tried to find what was so obviously interesting to her friend. "I just can't be sure of that."

A few moments passed of silent deliberation. Santana was grateful she had Quinn to fall back on and was unexpectedly happy that her friend finally got the girl. But she knew Quinn, and she was sure to mess something up thinking she was doing the right thing.

Quinn could only internally shake her head at Brittany's actions. Every time she had discussed Santana with her, she only assumed when Brittany would take that first step the two would end up together. It hurt Quinn to see that the only thing Santana was truly afraid of came true. The whole situation was entirely unfair for everyone involved.

Finally, in an exhausted voice that sounded like it was halfway asleep already, Santana whispered, "We're so screwed up, Q."

Quinn watched Santana's eyes fall shut, "I know S, I know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading :) I'd love reviews!**


	27. should we blame you or me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Honestly, really sorry about the wait. I've been really overwhelmed with school and I didn't have much time to write. But without further excuses, here's the next chapter. I have a short story class and the teacher was telling us to write with more detail, so I tried working with that in this chapter. So if you notice it reads a little differently than before that's why. Another party chapter, but this is pretty much Blame it on the Alcohol. I wanted to include this scene so I rearranged the timeline so it comes after the events of Sexy. Enjoy! **

**LadyL.L-Wow thank you so much! Your review made me so happy :)**

**Naya-HeYa-Achell-Di-Thank you! You reviewed on chapter 5, I hope you read the rest of it :P**

**Breakdown6-Did I make your heart hurt any worse than I did the chapter before? ;) I'm so glad you like the flashbacks, they're honestly my favorite things to write. I told you I thought I had a decent way to do Landslide lol There will be more of the Anna and Maria story to come. I'm not quite through with it yet. We have yet to hear anything from the mothers themselves. Thank you! I love your reviews and your help on Tumblr whenever I ask for it keep me working hard haha  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>Days passed before Brittany and Santana even acknowledged each other's presence. Whether they were in class together, eating lunch with their friends, or dancing in glee club, they avoided eye contact at all costs. While practicing their choreography for Regional's, Finn forced Santana to stumble into Brittany and all she offered was a bitter "sorry" before moving back into position, not bothering to listen for a reply.<p>

Brittany watched Santana wander through the halls alone and tried to ignore the twisting vice deep in her chest every time they crossed paths. Santana's scowl was poisonous to everyone around her, Brittany included. She knew when her friend noticed her looking; the scowl would falter into a grimace. The pain, the heartache, the burning jealousy. Brittany knew it all was because of her. Suddenly she wished she could rewind the clock and not try to force Santana into anything. Where they were, was somewhere she definitely didn't want to be.

Few times, Brittany gathered enough courage to break the tension that seemed to be thickening steadily the longer they went without talking. Most times, just as she was about to force her feet to stride forward, someone would distract her. Someone being Artie. Then she was reminded that she made the right choice. He was a dutiful boyfriend, and any girl would be lucky to have him. He had never wronged her and she couldn't just break his heart. In these moments she would swallow hard and walk away hand in hand with the boy that she loved, ignoring the burning sensation billowing from the girl she loved.

On a day when her emotions were running high, Brittany skipped Spanish. She couldn't withstand Quinn's sympathetic smiles and definitely couldn't bear Santana's boiling silence. Wandering through the hallways, Brittany wound up shuffling through the doors to the library. She had only been in there a handful of times, usually with Santana and Quinn to deface yearbooks or the year before when they performed to annoy the librarian. Brittany scrunched her nose up at the stale air drifting through the bookcases. Quinn used to drag Brittany and Santana to Lima's public library when they were younger. While Quinn liked to look at books with titles she couldn't pronounce and Santana scattered them into the wrong places, Brittany often settled down into the cushy bean bag chairs and flipped through the ones with colorful pictures. The animal ones were her favorite. She hated the school library; there weren't any pictures in the books there.

She ran her finger across the bindings and frowned at the titles. Just as she reached the end of one row she noticed a huddled figure sitting with their back against the back wall of the big room. Her heartbeat quickened when she realized who it was, and before Brittany could backtrack out of sight, dark chocolate eyes locked onto her and held her in place.

"Britt?" The familiar nickname slipped through Santana's pouty lips and the airiness lightened Brittany's heart. No one could make her name sound as sweet and lovely as Santana could. As quick as the moment happened, Santana hardened again and firmly asked, "What are you doing here?"

Shifting awkwardly between her feet, Brittany put some of her weight against the shelves, "I-I didn't want to go to class today," her words drifted off, trying to hide that she ditched in the hopes of avoiding her friend.

'_Friend?'_ Brittany wondered.

Santana nodded to her slightly, understanding the implication. "Oh," was all she said back. Brittany begged for the lightness again that always seemed so fleeting.

The two were silent for another long moment and Brittany mumbled, "I'll see you later then I guess." Turning slowly on her heels, she got a few short steps away before Santana's voice stopped her.

"You don't have to leave." Her words trembled and Brittany had to take a deep breath before walking back to where the other girl sat.

"Can I sit?" Brittany kicked the space next to Santana, who nodded solemnly. Kneeling down at the girl's side, Brittany took in her appearance.

Not known for much other than dresses and skirts, Brittany was surprised to see Santana in a pair of her favorite faded jeans that hung loosely around her waist. It was a pair she had only seen on weekends or during summer; they weren't school clothing according to Santana's standards. A simple, fitted red t-shirt clung against her torso and dirty white sneakers completed the outfit. She didn't look bad, _'definitely still hot,'_ Brittany thought, but it was out of the ordinary. Her dark hair hung in waves on her shoulders and a basic amount of makeup polished her face, but there was nothing flashy about her appearance. Brittany knew what it meant. She was trying to stay unnoticed. She knew because it was exactly what she had been doing.

Her outfits for the last few days had been plain and dull colors. She didn't want anyone noticing her, and that included Artie. Dressing out of her normal bright pinks and yellows had done the trick well enough. Today she donned jean overalls over a dark green tank-top. The bottoms were rolled up so they didn't drag across the floor and she had dug an old pair of green converse out of her closet that they had used during a glee performance.

Brittany crossed her legs underneath herself and leaned her head against the thick book bindings. Santana had her legs pulled tight against her chest and both arms wrapped around them. Every so often she would brush her nose against a pant leg and let her head rest there for a few seconds.

"So why the library?" Santana questioned, swiping her nose across her leg and leaning her temple against it to look at Brittany.

Avoiding her gaze, Brittany answered, "I wanted to look at the books."

Santana hummed, "I thought we didn't lie to each other? That's your rule right? Don't lie?"

"Santana," Brittany started and clenched her eyes tight.

"It seems like I'm the only honest one here." Santana mused spitefully.

Brittany ripped her stare from the floor at her friend, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She snorted and answered, "Why are you here Brittany?"

"Because I didn't want to go to Spanish and have to feel you glaring at me," Brittany said furiously.

"That worked well for you didn't it?" Santana spat.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Brittany demanded.

Santana's eyes widened, "Why am I _mad_? Are you kidding me?" Brittany averted her eyes again. "I'm not mad, I'm furious. You forced me to talk about my feelings Brittany, and then threw them back in my face. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why. Why did you need to know if I l-lo—felt that way about you if you didn't feel that way back?"

A loud sniff brought Brittany back to Santana's face and she watched the tears stream out of her eyes. The girl swiped them away as fast as they came and Brittany couldn't think of anything to do to fix it. For once, she was the cause of all this pain and she couldn't help.

"I do love you Santana. You have to know that." Brittany offered softly. Her own tears started to fall heavily against crossed arms in her lap.

Santana shook her head, "Best friends don't lie remember?"

Grabbing her arm in frustration, Brittany whisper-shouted, "It's not a lie. I love you Santana, I always have."

"Then it's obviously not enough. And like you said, you have Artie right? And you love him. And I have Sam." Brittany tasted the venom in every syllable leaving Santana's mouth. Her own words were being twisted against her and she couldn't think of a way to fight back.

"I can't do this Santana. I miss you. It hurts to see you ignore me and it hurts to go days without talking to you. You're my best friend."

"That's not fair and you know it," Santana reasoned. She sounded exhausted and Brittany couldn't blame her.

Brittany squeezed the arm she still held firmly and watched Santana's eyes flit down to watch the gesture. "Please, can we please be friends again?"

Santana looked torn. Brittany knew she was playing an unfair advantage but the idea of more days without hearing the other girl's voice haunted her. Even if things would be uneasy, she needed Santana back in her life anyway she could have her.

"And what? Forget this all happened?" Her voice sounded small and tired.

Brittany shrugged her shoulders and leaned her head against Santana's upper arm. She breathed in the familiar scent and relaxed out of instinct. She felt the muscle tense under her pressure and chose to ignore it. Anything she could get, she would take.

"I'm really sorry," Brittany offered sadly. It was all she could think to say.

Taking a deep breath, Santana let out, "That really doesn't help…"

"I know," Brittany clung tight to Santana's arm.

They stayed that way until the final bell echoed through the dense library air. Without words, they exited the room and walked silently towards their own cars.

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><p>The weekend couldn't have come any faster for Brittany. She wanted nothing more than to confine herself to her bedroom and curl up until Monday. Artie's mom dropped her off and after she convinced him to go out with Mike, she dragged her feet towards the front door and pushed it open wistfully. As nice as it was to be home and alone, it still meant more days without seeing Santana. Brittany mindlessly checked her phone on the off chance her friend wanted to talk but saw only a text from Quinn telling her to call if she needed anything and one from Artie making sure she didn't want to come out with him. She dropped the phone onto the coffee table and slumped into the couch. Leaning her head back she shut her eyes and drifted off.<p>

"Brittany?" Her mom's voice rang through her head, startling her out of a restless daze. Passing visions of screeching cats and Sue Sylvester's shrill megaphone-enhanced voice cleared out of Brittany's head the more times she blinked and was brought back to reality. Anna hung her head over the back of the couch and brushed her hand through tussled blonde hair. Brittany wrenched her head away from her mom's touch and she sat more upright. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she noticed how sleepy her voice sounded. Squinting towards the VCR display she saw it was almost eight thirty, most of her Friday having passed away soundly. It should have bothered her, but she was relieved to escape thoughts of the previous week for a few hours. There would be plenty of time to sort through it all.

Anna clicked her tongue, "My teenage daughter is passed out on our living room couch on a Friday night when she could be out drinking and dirty-dancing with her boyfriend? I don't think that's fine."

Brittany shook her head, "Dirty-dancing?"

"Grinding?" Anna tried and earned another unimpressed look.

"Wheelchair mom," was all Brittany answered.

Her mom made a show of looking all around the couch and went so far as to lift up a cushion, "Where? I don't see it?"

Sighing, Brittany buried her face into the arm of the tan, leather couch and groaned.

"Well, what about Santana? I know you two aren't opposed to getting up close and personal. I had to bear personal witness to that at your cousin's wedding. I think you two did a good job of making our older relatives go home early." Anna chuckled and moved around the couch to sit against Brittany's legs.

Muffled by the cushion, Brittany muttered, "Santana hates me."

"What?" Anna nudged Brittany to turn over.

She turned over and shut her eyes, "Santana, hates me."

"She could never hate you honey," her mother said.

Brittany rolled her eyes even though they were closed tight, "Trust me, she does."

"Why don't you tell me what happened and I'll be the judge of that?" Anna proposed.

She sat up again and picked at the hem of her shirt nervously, "I don't think I can tell you."

"Hey, I'm your mom Brittany, you can tell me anything." Brittany thought she sounded convincing. Anna started to unlace her sneakers and drop them to the floor.

"Santana," the words stuck in her throat. Saying them out loud meant she was acknowledging them again after two days of trying to blot them from her memory. "She told me something."

Anna nodded, "A secret?"

"Sort of," Brittany answered, "Not something she should keep a secret from me though."

"And you didn't like this secret?"

She shook her head instantly back and forth, "No, no, I lov—I liked hearing it. I've never been so happy hearing it, especially coming from her."

Brittany didn't like the way her mom's expression seemed to understand more than what she was letting on. Every word seemed to be expected, and it unsettled her.

"What did she tell you Brittany?"

Sweat pooled between her fingers and Brittany nervously shifted her gaze. _'Should I tell her?'_ Brittany wondered. This was her mom; would she still love her? Santana seemed to think that no one would accept them, but what about their own parents? But something in Anna's loving gaze forced it out of her willingly.

"She told me…that she loved me." It didn't sound like enough. "She _really_ loves me. More than friends." She thought about a long-gone conversation she had with Anna, "Like how you love Dad. And how Rachel's dads love each other." She couldn't help but smile.

The unexpected grin on Anna's face surprised Brittany further. "Mom?" she asked worriedly. Her mother had her eyes averted downwards, but the smile lingered.

"What did you say back?" Anna finally asked.

The happiness floated away as simply as it arrived, and Brittany wiped at unshed tears that hadn't appeared yet. _'What did I say back?'_ Brittany thought, _'I crushed her.' _She knew she loved Santana and had been waiting for the girl to admit the feelings back. But now that she did, Brittany couldn't do anything about it. It felt like circles. That's what she and Santana did. They moved in unfair circles, continually crashing into each other. Too stubborn to move out of each other's paths. It was dizzying. Brittany felt dizzy.

"Brittany?" Anna finally looked back to her daughter and saw the distress. Brittany burst forward into her mother's arms. They didn't feel tight enough to shield her. They weren't the arms she wanted around her.

"I screwed up," Brittany admitted miserably, "it's all my fault. B-But A-Artie," she sputtered and Anna tried to console her when the tears broke the dam mercilessly, "I l-l-love th-them both! This isn't fair!" She cried out.

Brittany felt another presence in the room through her hysterics and assumed it was her dad investigating the commotion. She felt Anna gesture him away and she clung a little more desperately to her torso. A chair, near enough to be heard, but far enough to give Brittany some peace, scratched against the kitchen tile. It was enough for Brittany to calm herself down; no one else needed to see her like this and she'd done enough crying in the past few days for a lifetime.

"It'll be okay, honey," Anna kissed her blistering hot forehead, "I promise you it will."

Brittany nodded clumsily against her mother's chest and let her exhaustion get the better of her. "Can I just go back to sleep?"

Anna nodded, "Maybe you should go up to your room?"

Her eyelids were starting to droop, "Too tired."

The calming tone of her mother's voice put a little more ease into her body, "Lucky for you we have a standby chariot." She felt the couch move as Anna's weight disappeared and she heard the light click of heels against the kitchen floor.

Before she knew it, large arms were sweeping underneath her shoulders and knees and she was being carried up the stairs. She smelled the familiar musk of her dad's breath and careened against his chest. His deep voice filled her ears pleasantly, "I don't know what's wrong Britt, but I can promise you everything will be okay."

She was eased down into the comfort of her sheets and she opened one eyes to look up at him, "Thanks dad." He leaned down and kissed her forehead and dropped a dead weight onto her side table before leaving the room.

The object intrigued Brittany enough to put off her sleep and turn over to find her cell phone. She didn't understand why her dad thought it was necessary to bring this up with her until she saw the red flashing light warning her of a new message. Figuring it to be Artie or even Quinn, she ignored it and passed out against her pillows.

Xx

A few dark streets away, Santana sat huddled against her padded, black headboard. She wanted to sprawl out across her bed but a foreign figure took up more than his share of space. She stared distantly at Sam's scattered blonde tresses and wanted to rip them from her pillows. If assuming he could stay wasn't enough to piss her off, his snores definitely did the trick.

Santana stood up and walked to the edge of her room and stared out the window into the dark night and watched a few cars pass. Cars maybe filled with friends she should have been out with instead of staying hold up in her bedroom, fucking Sam senseless, hoping to have him pass out early. Cars maybe filled with Brittany and Artie, enjoying their bliss instead of mourning their feelings, like she had been doing.

Looking at the clock on her dresser and reading eleven thirty, it was the only reason she could think of that explained why Brittany hadn't texted her back in five hours. It made her regret sending it at all, the message begging for her to call or to come over. After one hour, it made Santana worry. '_Was something wrong?_' After two hours, it infuriated her. _'Why does she get to ignore me?'_ After three, she called Sam and made him drop everything for her. _'I don't need her.' _She was too drunk to remember hour four, but now at five it finally broke her heart, when she thought it couldn't be broken any further.

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><p>Kurt spun around the newest addition to the mall, a <em>Borders<em> book store. Blaine insisted on getting them coffee so he was left alone to explore the gigantic room. As far as Lima was concerned, this was revolutionary. Sure, they had a few little book stores and even the public library, but this was something entirely new. Even Kurt was in awe, even though he would've rather gained an _H&M_ or _Guess_ so he didn't have to make the trip down to Columbus for good shopping.

Scanning the best sellers, he thought he caught of glance of someone he knew perusing the celebrity biography section. Before Kurt got a chance to investigate, Blaine rounded his shoulder and presented him with an on-the-go styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Here you go," Blaine handed him the cup and took a sip of his own. Kurt smiled at how adorable he looked trying to not spill it down the front of his maroon cardigan.

"Thanks," Kurt replied and took a tentative sip of his scalding beverage.

"Find anything good?" Blaine asked and looked through the book titles in front of them.

"Sadly, America doesn't have as big of a fascination with Alexander McQueen as one Kurt Hummel," Kurt murmured mockingly.

"What a shame. This town might have a little more style if they focused less on vampire and werewolves and more on what shoes match what pants," Blaine teased.

"Is someone mocking Twilight? The same movie you forced me to sit through only a few nights ago?"

Blaine smiled heartily, "I don't think you were exactly forc—wait is that Quinn?" He pointed down a few rows where sure enough Quinn was looking through a few books. She was wearing a red and black mid-length dress with a denim jacket and was already holding a shopping basket full of books.

While Kurt was busy taking in her appearance, Blaine's voice cut through his thoughts, "Didn't take her for a Patti LuPone enthusiast."

Noticing Quinn was in fact reading the back cover of an autobiography, he chuckled. "We should go say hello." The two made a beeline for the girl and stopped short when they saw Rachel walk up behind her and wrap both arms around her waist. Instead of throwing her off, like Kurt expected, Quinn just grinned and leaned back into Rachel's chest. Blaine and him exchanged confused glances and finally closed the last few feet between them and the girls.

"Um…hey guys," Blaine muttered awkwardly. Quinn and Rachel were startled and jumped apart, putting as much distance between each other as they could.

"Kurt! Blaine!" Rachel smiled nervously, flashing her teeth at the two boys. Quinn set her lips into a firm line and inched a little behind Rachel.

"What are you two doing here?" Kurt asked, trying to hide the devilish smirk that was forcing its way through. His boyfriend nudged him anxiously.

"We," Rachel looked back at Quinn, "we were just looking for some…sheet music...for Regional's…" she turned back to the him and Blaine, "And Quinn wanted to check out the new book store so…so here we are." Kurt noticed the wary breath she let out after her explanation.

Glancing sideways at Blaine, Kurt couldn't hold back his smirk, "Find anythi—"

"Do you guys want to come to a party?" Quinn asked them urgently. If Rachel's head spun any faster, Kurt swore it would've popped off. He watched the way her eyes bugged out pleadingly.

"A party?" Blaine asked. He sounded excited; they two of them did miss the New Year's Party this year, save for picking up a drunken Santana.

Quinn shoulder checked Rachel until she turned back around, smile still in place. "Yeah, Rachel here was thinking about having the glee kids over tonight. No one else, so keep it quiet."

"Does anyone else know about it yet? I'm sure Mercedes or Finn would have filled me in," Kurt wondered, a little surprised if they were the first ones to know about it. Considering they weren't technically 'glee kids.'

Quinn seemed to be enjoying her own joke when she said, "Nope. Brand new plans. Rach, here, just thought of it."

He and Blaine exchanged another set of glances. His boyfriend seemed insistent on going, and it had been a long time since Kurt got to party with his friends. He nodded okay.

"We'd love to," Blaine smiled and took a sip of his coffee.

"Great!" Quinn exclaimed and grabbed Rachel by the arm, "We'll see you guys later then, 8 o'clock sound good?"

They both nodded and Quinn smiled, walking away with a firm grasp on Rachel's bicep. Before they got completely out of ear shot, Kurt thought he heard Rachel burst out "A party?" but shrugged it off.

"Looks like we have to go plan our outfits," Kurt clapped happily.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's waist and pulled him closer, "You look great in what you're wearing already." He kissed Kurt gently on the cheek and looked around to make sure no one was watching them.

"That's sweet," Kurt blushed and took a step back, "But nice try. Let's go."

"It was worth a shot," Blaine smiled and followed Kurt out of the store.

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><p>Burying her face deep into the fluffy, black comforter on her bed, Santana tried her best to shut out the outside world. It was proving to be a much harder task than anticipated when Brittany was sitting in her desk chair a few feet away, picking at her fingernails. They hadn't said much to each other than a mutual "hey" when Santana picked Brittany up a few hours before. She couldn't understand why Brittany was there, if she wasn't going to make any effort to talk, so instead Santana spent most of the time flipping through magazines and reheating leftovers for the both of them to eat. Now that her plate was clear and out of the way she couldn't think of anything else to do but lay down and pray Brittany would leave soon.<p>

She heard a buzzing from a few feet away and heard the other girl move to pull the phone from her shorts. Another thing she didn't understand, was why Brittany thought it was okay to wear short shorts in the middle of March. Santana guessed it had something to do with her not being around to remind Brittany about the weather.

"Rachel texted me." Brittany muttered, she sounded unsure of whether Santana was even awake to hear her.

"And?" Santana grumbled into her blankets. _'Why do I care what the munchkin has to say?'_

"She's having a party for the glee kids." Brittany answered.

She picked her head up and rolled onto her side to face Brittany, "Berry is throwing a party?"

"'_A night in with Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray_' is what it says," she turned the screen so Santana could see it.

Santana licked her lips and shut her eyes, chuckling inwards, "That's so lame."

"It could be fun." Brittany mumbled.

Santana sat up and looked at her, "So you're going?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Brittany asked, "Are you?"

"That's not what I asked."

"I know. It's what I asked." It sounded more like a question than a statement and Santana shook her head.

"You don't have to stay here if you want to go, everyone'll be there." She tried to keep the bitterness out of the word _everyone_ but from the look on Brittany's face it didn't look like it did any good.

"I don't want to be with everyone, I want to hang out with you. That's why I'm here. I'm not going if you don't want to." The honesty in her tone shook Santana to her core.

"You don't have to," Santana laid back against her bed and quickly moved to pull her white tank top down where it had risen up, "I get it if you want to go."

Brittany got up from the desk and eased her way next to Santana on the bed. "I don't, trust me."

'_I can't_,' Santana wanted to say but bit her tongue. She wanted to reach up and brush the few strands of hair that had fallen into her face but couldn't without sliding her arm against Brittany's, so she stayed still.

She guessed Brittany had sensed the tension, so the girl scooted a few inches away, but not before reaching up and picking the hair from her face and smoothing it out of the way. Santana fought the way it burned to feel the skin-on-skin contact and ignored the urge to brush Brittany's hair back the same way she had done a second ago.

"We should go," Santana whispered and turned on her side. The way Brittany now looked up at her, turned her stomach over. Her cool, blue eyes scrutinized every move she made, and Santana felt pressured to roll away, but something kept her in place. She counted the days it'd been since their last kiss. The last time she felt Brittany's soft lips pressed against her own, without desperation and force, but gentle and firm conveying the emotion Santana hadn't yet understood but now drowned in. It seemed so unfair that now, understanding everything and what it all meant, she was deprived of what should have been her reward. And that stung, to know she couldn't have it, and Brittany was the reason.

'_Brittany's the reason for everything,'_ she thought mercilessly.

"San?" Brittany's voice pulled her back into the moment and she stood up abruptly off the bed.

"C'mon, let's get dressed. Even a Rachel Berry party is something we have to look hot for." Santana walked towards her closet and scoured her clothing. Anything to keep her mind off of Brittany. She prayed someone was smart enough to bring alcohol that night.

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><p>Everyone was obliterated. Santana watched from the counter as the glee club—plus Kurt and Blaine—fell all over each other by the one white couch. She spent most of the time with Puck, laughing at all of the lightweights, or making sure Rachel and Quinn didn't give themselves away too easily. Recently, Quinn seemed a little over-eager to do a body shot of Rachel, so she carefully drove her friend away and let someone else do the honors.<p>

Puck wandered over to her again after dancing with Lauren and hopped up on the bar. The music pounded heavily in the background while Mike, Tina, and Mrcedes danced freely. They watched Artie line up to do a body shot off Sam and everyone whooped to see his lips on the other boy's bare skin.

"I don't know if I'm up for this sausage fest," Puck gagged and turned to Santana, "Why don't you go do one off Brittany and show them how it's done?"

She saw Brittany leaning against the coffee table across the room and staring at her. "I don't think that's a good idea," Santana answered.

"Why not?" Puck whined. She knew he would start begging soon.

"I don't want to make her boyfriend jealous," she smirked and sipped from the straw in her blue plastic cup.

"If he's allowed to suck the alcohol off fish-boy's chest than I'm pretty sure you're allowed to return the favor on her." He looked around the party. "Besides, it's not like it mattered when you were _my_ girlfriend."

"It's different," she said angrily.

"Why?" Puck asked again.

She slammed her plastic cup down onto the bar and the force made the sides split. Lucky enough she had drunk enough for none to spill out and she started yelling, "Fine Puck! Be right back!"

Santana walked over to the table and Brittany looked surprised to see her approaching.

"Hey? What's up?" Brittany asked happily, she didn't seem as drunk as she should have been, considering the amount of drink Santana watched her consume throughout the night.

"C'mon," she tugged her friend up by the arm and led her over to a chair. "Hey someone set me up!" Santana yelled to her classmates and Sam was the first one over. He dropped a lime into Santana's hand and kneeled at her side. Dropping a sloppy kiss to her cheek, he sat back on his heels and watched her work.

Santana squeezed the lime enough for the juices to escape and she ran it along Brittany's toned stomach. She watched the way the muscles trembled where her fingertips drug carelessly against the skin. She poured a small amount of salt onto the new wet path and sat up to grab the shot. Rachel screamed unnecessarily behind her and Sam, Mercedes, and Artie's clapping only drove her forward more. She dropped the lime into Brittany's mouth and watched the way she stared seductively up at her. Inwardly, Santana scowled at how unfair her friend was being. Her buzz clouded her head and she ignored the flashing lights that told her to stop. Santana licked the path between Brittany's open shirt and made sure to catch every last grain of salt. It gave her all the more reason to keep her tongue pressed against Brittany's skin and savor the taste; she locked it away in her drunken mind and hoped she would remember it tomorrow. Pulling up, she tossed back the shot, which turned out to be tequila, and the usual burn she expected was instead masked by the lingering flavor of Brittany's body. She looked deep into blue eyes as she leaned forward and bit the edge of lime protruding barely out of the girl's mouth and once again ignored the desire to close that miniscule distance. The moment was far more intimate than anyone around them could tell, but the way Brittany was looking at her meant the girl knew the desire Santana felt.

With the new alcohol coursing through her veins, everyone's cheering made Santana giggle uncontrollably, _'they're so oblivious!'_, and she wobbled onto shaky legs and walked back to the bar. Puck might as well have been drooling, with his eyes wide and mouth hung slack. "Need a change of pants?" Santana teased.

He shook his head and brought a hand up to grab his chin, "Is there any way that—"

"No Puck." Santana scowled at him, knowing he was going to suggest any possible way to get her and Brittany into his bed. _'Knowing him, he'd find a way to get Lauren involved,'_ Santana shivered at the thought.

Puck shrugged, "Oh well." He walked towards the middle of the room and pulled Quinn aside. Santana snickered, _'Not gonna get much luck there either, Puckerman.'_

She didn't notice Brittany behind the bar pouring herself another drink, "I don't think Rachel will be too happy about that."

Santana jumped and put a hand over her chest, "Jesus."

Brittany scrunched her eyebrows, "No, _Brittany._ You're not that drunk are you, San?"

"You scared me." Murmuring, Santana picked up her broken cup and eyed it lazily. "Wanna pour me another?"

"One condition," Brittany answered.

Santana eyed her curiously, "Hmm?"

"Come with me? Upstairs?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I already have the next part of this started but I didn't want another really long chapter...so...sorry! But depending on if I finish it, I'll post it either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks for reading! I'd love some more reviews :)**


	28. all the words you said

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Check it out, some times I post when I say I will (that was in a sing song voice in my head, ignore me, it's late, I'm tired) Next chapter, I wanted to leave you hanging but I couldn't do it. Not when they story was so fresh in my head. I'm gonna run away into sleep before you get the chance to throw rocks at me for this chapter. Good night! And have fun.  
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**jace5238-****Would you believe me if I told you the only reason I wrote this up so fast was because of your one review? Cause I totally did. You probably just saved everybody from having to wait another week for this chapter :) thanks for the review and sorry for the tease!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>"<em>Come with me? Upstairs?" <em>

Santana blanched. She was sure she misunderstood Brittany. The alcohol was finally taking its toll and that last shot threw her over the edge between fantasy and reality. She tapped her head once, begging for the clarity back but all she saw was Brittany, across the bar, grinning mischievously but somehow still appearing worried.

"Well?" Brittany asked again, her tone betrayed the sexy confidence on her face. _'Almost as much as her eyes do,'_ Santana noted.

"I don't understand," Santana said dumbly.

Pouring the last of the vodka bottle into two cups, Brittany handed one to Santana and chugged back her own. She let out a deep breath and dropped her cup to the bar and ran an arm sloppily across her mouth. "C'mon." She walked away and stumbled up the basement stairs, further into the Berry household.

Santana stared after her. She was frozen in place and still couldn't grasp what was happening. Her own drink felt extraordinarily heavy in her hand when she struggled to lift it to her lips. Her mind drifted back once again to the taste of Brittany's skin. It was still fresh enough to overpower the alcohol and she emptied her cup easily. Looking around the room to see if anyone would notice their disappearance, she saw Quinn stumbling her way over.

"Where's Brittany go?" She heavily slurred her words.

"Upstairs. I'm gonna go see what's up." Santana answered and started to move away but Quinn grabbed her arm.

"You can't do this, you know?" Quinn threatened.

"Do what?"

"Play with her emotions. She's hurt, S."

It was a lot of work pulling her arm from Quinn, even in the girl's drunken state, "And you think I'm not? Whose side are you on, Q?"

Quinn shook her head violently, "Nobody's s-side. I don't take sides. I'm just telling you, up there is a bad idea." She gestured upwards sloppily.

"I think I can handle myself. Now lay off." Santana pushed past Quinn, who stumbled into a chair, and followed Brittany's lead up the stairs.

The house was pitch dark. She looked wearily around the downstairs before hearing footsteps across the ceiling above her head. Santana fumbled against the wall, trying to find the staircase and eventually crawled her way up into the hallway upstairs. Only one room was lit up, so she assumed it had to be where Brittany was. Inching closer, now on two feet, she remembered it was Rachel's bedroom and pushed open the door.

The bright light pulsed into her eyes and she put a hand up to shield them. Light music was playing in the background and she looked to see an iPod dock, holding Brittany's pink iPod. She didn't recognize the song, or at least couldn't so she walked further into the room and settled at the foot of Rachel's bed.

"Brittany?" She called out quietly. The bathroom light showed through the crack at the bottom of the door and Santana figured it was the only place the girl could be. Before she had any more time to think about it, the door creaked open and Brittany appeared red-faced and wiping wetness away from her cheeks.

"I didn't think you were coming..." she said softly. Her back was pushed up against the door frame and Santana figured she was using the last of her strength to stay back.

She shrugged, "What'd you want Britt?"

Brittany crossed the room and stopped in front of the iPod. Santana took the time to study Rachel's bedroom. She'd been in it before but never took the time to realize how childlike it actually was.

"You'd think by now Rachel would have changed this up," she pointed at the walls and Brittany followed her direction.

"I don't know. I kinda like it. It's really...Rachel. It's nice she has somewhere to go and just be herself." With a final click, the music changed into a thick dance beat. Santana recognized it; it was a song they used to dance to in middle school. Her altered mind felt the bass thumping in her head.

"What about your room?" Santana asked. Brittany's back was to her as she stared into the mirror.

"I don't really like it right now." Brittany admitted quietly.

"Why?" Santana asked nervously.

"It reminds me too much of you." Brittany turned on her heels and stared Santana down. Santana tried to keep her eyes on the other girl's face, but when her shirt was open so casually and the pink bra she had seen so many times before, made Brittany's boobs looks so perfectly sculpted, it was hard. With a lot of force, Santana forced herself to look at her face.

"Don't do this right now," Santana warned. She felt the familiar tightening of drunken tears around her eyelids and fought to keep them at bay. Pulling the hem off her blue dress further down her thighs, Santana fidgeted uncomfortably. _'Don't you dare cry,'_ she thought nastily at herself.

"I don't want to talk," Brittany said honestly. Slowly, she sauntered up to Santana and placed both of her palms against her neck.

Santana closed her eyes the instant Brittany's hands found her skin. "Brittany," she warned again.

Ignoring her pleas, Brittany put a knee down against her left hip and she felt the leather shorts brush against her dress. Without further warning, the other leg came up and Brittany was straddling her. The girl sat down against her thighs and Santana shut her eyes. She tried to force her mind to wake up. But the pressure of Brittany's body was too heavy and too achingly familiar to be a dream.

"Look at me," Brittany begged. Her voice was a lot huskier than before and it shot straight to the pit of Santana's stomach. If she opened her eyes, she didn't know if there was any going back.

When she did, Santana's heart leapt in her chest. She couldn't tell if it was excitement or panic. Brittany was so close. Her hot breath radiated on her skin and she felt her blood boil beneath the surface. When Brittany moved against her, _'excitement, definitely excitement,' _Santana had to hold her still. Wandering hands ran up and down her arms, and pulled at her jacket. Fighting the urge to indulge in the sensations she used her own hands to halt the ones running rampant on her body. It took all of her strength to stop her. She wanted Brittany. She wanted her bad. But everything about his moment felt wrong.

"Britt, no," she whispered.

Brittany looked down at her sadly, "Why?"

"I can't do this." Her head was swimming in Brittany, in the drinks, in the music. Rachel's chaotically colored walls didn't help much either. She felt her eyes tear up and Brittany ran a thumb across her cheek.

"Why not?" Brittany asked again, a little more anxiously.

Santana grabbed Brittany by her thighs and moved her carefully to the bed and off her lap. "We should go back downstairs." She stood up and straightened out her clothes.

"I think I'm going to go home." Brittany said quietly.

Sighing, Santana turned around and grabbed Brittany's hand. "Please don't leave because of this."

"Why? It's not like there's anything else to stay for." She crossed her arms and looked away defiantly.

"What about your boyfriend?" Santana scoffed.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about that," Brittany muttered.

"Just come back to the party Brittany," it felt like a command coming from her lips but Santana shrugged it off and left the room.

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><p>Rachel was passed out on the couch, face down and snoring loudly. Santana stood over her and chuckled to herself, trying to decide if a mustache was too much of a punishment. She tapped the marker against her chin.<p>

Most of the glee clubbers had cleared out, leaving her, Quinn, and oddly enough Tina who was waiting on Santana for a ride. Finn had filled most of his mom's car with the drunken teenagers, him having not drunk anything, and Tina was too busy hurling while everyone else left. Santana hadn't had a drink since she came back down and since the encounter with Brittany sobered her up fast, she trusted herself enough to offer Tina a ride.

"Don't even think about it," Quinn chided as she strolled up next to Santana.

"Just a little one?" She pleaded. Taking the time to look over Quinn, Santana noticed she had a lot more control than the last time they spoke, "Sober?"

"Stopped drinking around the same time you did," Quinn remarked. Her tone was questioning and Santana put a hand up to silence her before it started.

"Not talking about it, Q."

"If you say so," Quinn answered.

"Are you sure you don't want help cleaning up? Aren't Rachel's dads gonna be home tomorrow?" The idea of spending more time there, cleaning up scattered cups and abandoned articles of clothing, was the last thing Santana wanted, but she had a horrible feeling about going home.

"Nah," her friend said, "they aren't coming home until tomorrow night. I'm gonna make this girl," she nudged Rachel's shoulder with her knee, "help me clean up through her hangover. Maybe it'll teach her a lesson about drinking."

"Are you her girlfriend or her mother?" Tina's ears perked up and she moved a little closer.

Quinn shushed Santana, noticing Tina's appearance from the bathroom, "Shut up, idiot."

"Santana, can we go home?" Tina asked politely. The girl didn't look like she would last much longer without another round spent lying next to the porcelain throne so she nodded.

"Yeah, let's go Asian-invasion, Quinn needs to dress the midget for bed anyway."

Quinn slapped her shoulder, "Santana!"

She laughed, "Q, she already heard me before." She turned to Tina, "Didn't you?"

Against what looked like her better judgment, Tina nodded. "Sorry Quinn."

Quinn put her best bitch-face on and glared at the girl, "Don't you dare tell anyone. You understand? Just because I'm not on the Cheerio's, doesn't mean I can't make your life a living hell."

Santana was actually a little frightened; it had been a long time since she had seen Quinn be nasty, especially towards the glee club kids. She glanced over at Tina and was actually surprised the girl hadn't wet herself.

"Y-y-yeah. I won't say anything." She looked thoughtful for a minute, "I actually don't think anyone would believe me if I did."

"Don't test that theory," Santana said mockingly, "C'mon let's go. Later Quinn."

The two girls left and Quinn was left to watch Rachel sleep. Her girl looked adorable, even drunk and passed out. After her performance with Blaine, Rachel had rounded up karaoke duets with almost everybody, including her. Their first song would always be remembered as a drunken rendition of _Before He Cheats_ by Carrie Underwood—Rachel's choice.

She knelt to the ground in front of the couch and brushed back Rachel's dark, chestnut locks to whisper in her ear, "Babe, wake up. Everyone's gone."

Rachel murmured inaudibly in her sleep. Quinn grinned at the distressed look on her face.

She thought of a decent way to wake Rachel up, "Rachel! Barbra's here. Hurry up you're gonna miss her!"

Even with that, Rachel didn't so much as stir. Quinn brushed her own hair back out of her face and bit her lip trying to think of a way to wake her girlfriend up. A light bulb flashed on in her head, and even though she didn't expect it to work, she tried anyway.

"If you wake up right now," she leaned in further to Rachel's ear so her lips were gently brushing against the shell, "you can have sex with me."

Rachel's eyes burst open and she sat up as far back on the couch away from Quinn as she could. "What did you just say?"

Quinn laughed and extended a hand down out to her, "Glad to see you'd rather have sex than meet Barbra Streisand."

Eyes still wide, Rachel urged, "Are you serious? C-cause I'm not really ready for that, and I mean we were drinking all night and I'm not properly groom—" She slapped away at her face, trying to clear the smudged makeup.

"Rachel it was a joke. I actually didn't think you would wake up. But that's all useful information for me." Quinn teased and moved her hand again, signaling for Rachel to take it.

When she did, the pair stood up and walked two steps before Rachel slumped against Quinn's side. "You're going have to provide a little more assistance Quinn."

Wrapping one arm around Rachel's back, Quinn led them up the stairs and eventually all the way up into Rachel's bedroom. She eyed the odd iPod sitting scattered on Rachel's side table and internally shrugged at it. She led Rachel towards the bed, making sure she didn't trip over her flowing green evening gown and pulled the covers back for the girl to get in. When Rachel was all tucked in, Quinn kissed her forehead and turned to change her clothes.

"Aren't you staying?" Rachel's restless voice called out to her and Quinn smiled before turning back around.

"I'm just changing, go to sleep." She pulled her denim jacket off and dropped it to the floor. She pulled open a few of Rachel's dresser drawers and looked for a pair of gym shorts she could wear after tugging her dress off her body. She slipped a black t-shirt over her head and still searched for shorts.

"Not sleeping until you're in here with me," Rachel whispered sleepily. Quinn could tell how hard she was fighting to stay awake and forgot the need for pants. Flipping the light off, she wandered over to her side of the bed and scrambled in close to Rachel's back. Her arm was welcomed around the girl's waist by a tugging hand that laced its fingers with her own.

She figured Rachel had fallen asleep not long after that, so when Rachel spoke it startled her. "You were wrong before."

"Oh really?" She squeezed her waist tighter, "About what?"

"Sex isn't more important than meeting Barbra." Quinn wanted to laugh but bit her lip to stifle it.

"No?" Quinn wondered.

"Sex with _you_ is though." Rachel pulled her hand up and kissed Quinn's knuckles before letting out on last deep breath before her breathing regulated.

Her face burned, and it was all Quinn could do to not leave right then and hop into the nearest cold shower. Something that shouldn't have been so sexy, was almost the most sexual thing she had ever heard leave Rachel's mouth. Chalking it up to the booze, Quinn smirked and buried her face in Rachel's back and let herself fall asleep.

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><p>After dropping Tina off, Santana drove the forty minutes back to her own house. <em>'Why the hell does Tina live so far away from everyone else? Maybe that's the reason Finn bolted so fast while she was distracted,'<em> she wondered, pulling into her driveway. Both of her parent's cars were gone, which wasn't surprising, but Santana couldn't ignore the angry twinge in her gut. After everything that happened with Brittany this week, all she really wanted to do was talk to her mother about it. Not like she would have told her any of the personal details, but enough to gain some insightful words of encouragement.

She trampled through the house, being excessively loud—just because she could—and climbed the stairs with as much effort as if they were Mount Everest. Her body seemed to be a lot tired than her mind was letting on and she was breathing heavily by the time she reached the top. _'Note to self: Find new exercise regimen to replace Cheerio's workouts.'_

When she got to her room, she didn't bother to turn the lights on and simply kicked her shoes off at the door. She stripped out of her dress and padded slowly to her bed. She yawned as she crawled into the covers and ignored the giant lump on the opposite side of the bed. In the darkness, it looked like one of her pillows.

Until it spoke.

"Santana?" Brittany's sleepy voice scared Santana so much she fell backwards out of the bed and landed with a thud on her hard wooden floor.

"Britt—Brittany? What the fuck are you doing here?" Santana screamed and scrambled to her feet. Only when the girl sat up and looked at her fully, did she remember that she was only in a bra and panties. She grabbed a pillow quickly from her bed and covered herself.

Brittany rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and chuckled, "It's nothing I haven't seen before, San."

"That's not the…answer my question, why are you here?"

"Maybe if you get back into bed I'll tell you," Brittany answered and laid back down.

"Brittany," Santana warned, sounding a lot like she had earlier that night, "stop alright? I'm not doing that okay?"

"I wasn't asking you to. Please just lay down?" Her voice was so innocent at that moment that Santana dropped her defenses and slowly crawled back into her own bed.

Her body felt stiff against the cold sheets, and it seemed unfair for Brittany to put her at such unease in her own bed. A lot of things seemed unfair at the moment, but that was the one thing that formed correctly in her mind.

"Okay, so tell me why you're here now." Santana asked, no longer sounding frustrated with the other girl's presence.

"I told you earlier actually, I don't like being in my own room."

"But you said you didn't like it because it reminded you of me," Santana questioned.

"And?" Brittany didn't seem to see the flaw in her own logic.

She sighed, "Why would you want to be in my bed then? With me? The person who makes you uncomfortable in your own bed."

There was only silence for a few minutes until Brittany spoke again, "It's not you being there that makes me sad, it's that you aren't there."

"Oh…" Santana mumbled. Her heart was wrenching in two, or at least where her heart should have been. At this point, it honestly was hard to tell if there was anything left there to call a heart.

"Are you ever going to stop being mad at me?" Brittany sounded nervous.

Santana rolled over onto her side so she was facing Brittany, similarly to how she was laying earlier that day, "I'm not mad B, I'm hurt. I'm really, really hurt. Every time I see you, my chest aches. I don't want to feel this way, but I do."

In barely a whisper, Brittany said, "I didn't want to hurt you. I just didn't think everything through."

"Why did you need to know so bad?" Santana asked. It was honestly the question that plagued her the most. Why did Brittany have to know at that moment, when she knew there was no chance they could be together.

"I just…so many times I wanted to tell you how I felt. But _sex isn't dating_ right? You made it so hard to say everything I wanted. And at that point, the day I asked you about singing for glee club, I just needed to hear it. I didn't want to lie to you anymore, and I didn't want you to lie to yourself. It wasn't fair to either of us."

She was crying, Santana could hear the way her voice trembled in the dark. Even if she couldn't see the tears, she knew they were there. They were already streaming down her own face.

"Part of me thinks I would have been happier lying to myself," she admitted honestly.

Brittany reached out and slid her palm under Santana's jaw, "You don't mean that."

"I do Britt, I really do. If telling you that…I love you, means I have to watch someone else have you every day and know it isn't enough, I wish I could take it back."

"You don't know how happy it made me to hear you say it Santana," Brittany gripped her cheek harder. "I've waited to hear you say that for years."

"But it still doesn't matter does it?"

"Look, I won't break up with Artie," it stung to hear the elephant in the room mentioned by name, "but you need to understand that if he and I ever break up, I'm yours. Without any questions."

"You know that's not much of a consolation prize right Britt?" Santana took in a deep breath and tried to still the tears. It felt good to talk about it rationally for once, even though Brittany was still tearing her apart.

"It's the best I can offer you right now…"

"I know, B." Santana put a hand behind Brittany's neck and pulled her in close to her own body. Brittany slung an arm around her waist and pulled them tight together. "I know you already asked me this, but can we go back to being best friends?"

Against her chest, she felt Brittany nod, "Of course S."

She pulled the covers up over them and returned her hand to Brittany's neck. It felt so good to hold her under any pretenses. They laid there, content in each other's arms for the remainder of the night. Neither one of them fell asleep, trying to soak in as much of each other through their small embrace as they could. It wasn't until Santana spotted the clock one last time at around 4 in the morning that she kissed Brittany's forehead and shut her eyes.

"I love you Brittany." She whispered gently, in case the girl was already asleep.

The last thing she heard before falling sleep was, "I love you too Santana."

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><p><strong>AN: Not much, but a tiny bit of resolution. Sorry if it's not what you wanted, but I'm not ready to go there yet. Thanks for reading! :) Review, review, review, review!**


	29. i need you more

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: First off, how good was _Heart_? I mean honestly? Okay, well this is _Original Songs_ and _Rumours _and there is a lot of Faberry this chapter, just as a warning. Also, Pezberry, the breakup I'm sure a lot of you have been waiting for and another Brittana scene that I wasn't planning on including in this chapter which honestly I'm including as a reward for all of the reviews guys. I love when you review, and a lot of them for the last two chapters were amazing. Thanks especially to Kendojin, roswellmorgana, jace5238, Naya-HeYa-Achell-Di, Musicfutbolfan6, R Cole, gleeknumber1, and of course Breakdown6 who's reviews are always amazing! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>"We're not used to the environment here. Cincinnati is a lot more dangerous than Lima, Quinn. I'm not sure if this is such a good idea. " Rachel crossed her arms defiantly and glared deep into smiling hazel eyes that dismissed her resilience.<p>

"Are you done?" Quinn asked teasingly and unbuckled her seat belt. She put one hand on the handle to open the door and turned back to Rachel who continued to scowl.

"Not to mention, we're at some random waterfront outlet mall, out of Lima. Two teenage girls, out without parental supervision, defenseless." Rachel continued on and elicited a chuckle from her girlfriend.

"If anyone comes after us, I'm sure you could _talk_ them to death." Quinn mocked Rachel and grabbed her hand across the console. "First of all, it's an outlet mall, not a strip mall. And second, I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Can we please go now?"

Rachel scoffed, "After you made fun of me, yes, _sure_ Quinn. I'd love to set myself up for a possible mugging with you." She tugged her hand away and faced outside of the window.

"Seriously Rachel?"

Silence.

"Rachel?"

Nothing.

"Alright this is ridiculous." Quinn rebuckled her seatbelt and started the car up. She shifted it into reverse and started to back out of the spot, finally gaining a response from Rachel.

"What are you doing?" she spat angrily.

"Taking you home." Quinn said simply. "Isn't that what you want?"

Rachel scoffed again, "No, it's not what I want." Quinn slammed on the breaks. "What the hell, Quinn?" she exclaimed.

"What _do_ you want Rachel? Cause I thought a nice day out with me, away from all the idiots back home, would be good for us." With her gaze straight ahead, there was no way Quinn saw Rachel's fist, trembling in rage.

"So that gives you the right to be a total bitch?" Rachel instantly regretted letting the words slip off her tongue and reached over and grabbed a hand off of Quinn's lap. She half-expected the gesture to be shrugged off but the other girl let her hold it without resistance. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."

She heard Quinn sigh, "Yes you did. I just wanted to spend some time out in public. Not that I don't love sitting in your bedroom or mine and watching movies, but…I just wanted to get out for once. It was a real close call last week with Kurt and Blaine." Her head dropped against the steering wheel. "This was a bad idea."

Rachel clenched their hands tighter, "No it wasn't a _bad_ idea. I just…sometimes I let myself get carried away in my ranting." She let a tortured smile grace her otherwise pained expression, "I thought you'd be used to it by now."

Quinn smirked lightly but it dwindled away. "I shouldn't have freaked out on you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay…" Rachel rubbed her gloved thumb against the pale skin underneath her fingers. "You can buy me something to make up for it."

Quinn looked up fully for the first time and smiled at Rachel. "Deal." Shifting the car back into drive, she pulled the car forward, back into the spot, and killed the engine. She climbed out of the car and rushed over to open Rachel's door. Seeing Quinn's outstretched hand, Rachel's heart leapt in her chest.

"Well aren't you so chivalrous." Quinn ducked her head and blushed. Rachel laced their fingers together and started pulling them towards the sidewalk that was bordered by the Ohio River.

"So what's first?" Quinn ignored her question and appeared to be searching for something. She pulled Rachel along wordlessly until they stumbled onto a coffee vendor. Quinn ordered two coffees and turned back to her. "Quinn?" she asked again.

"Okay…so…how mad would you be if I told you we didn't come here to shop?" The question startled her.

"Not mad. But can you clarify why exactly we are here?" Rachel fought the impulsive urge to stamp her foot impatiently.

Quinn paid for their drinks and handed one to the Rachel. She used her empty hand to reclaim Rachel's, slowly leading them back towards the water. "My mom used to bring me and my sister here all the time. I never wanted to shop. I _loathed_ shopping," Rachel chuckled through a sip of her coffee, "Sometimes I would sneak away from them and go there."

She pointed ahead of them to a withered bench. A normal park bench that matched a few others lined along the fence separating the sidewalk from the water.

"I'd hang out here for as long as it took them to find me. After it happened more than once, my mom just kind of stopped caring. They'd spend _hours_ wasting money and I'd sit right here." They sat down on the bench and she watched Quinn folded her legs up underneath herself.

Rachel whimpered at the cold wood underneath her legs and scooted closer to the blonde to preserve some warmth. Quinn dropped a hand onto her thigh and rubbed back and forth against the jeans, creating some friction.

She thought about how lonely it must have been for Quinn to sit by herself all day. Especially if her mother insisted on shopping during the colder months. "But what did you do?"

Quinn took a sip before answering. "What do you mean?"

"You sat here, for what I can assume was only hours. Doing what exactly?" Rachel grasped the cup between her hands, willing the heat to spread.

Quinn shrugged her shoulders, "Thinking. Watching the water. When I got older I started bringing books. It was more than I could ask for."

"That sounds lonely." Rachel breathed out into the cold night.

Quinn smiled, "I wasn't lonely. I loved it."

Rachel caught contemplative eyes studying her intently. A lot of the things Quinn said confused her, and when she would try to understand, they often fought. That was at least a consistency that transferred from their friendship over into their budding relationship. She never understood Quinn's motives and her nagging persistence to know everything always caught them up. Rachel never knew what she was thinking and while that intrigued her, it was also infuriating. The only clarity she ever had was when Quinn kissed her. _'As rare as that happens,' _she thought longingly.

"Why don't you kiss me more often?" Rachel wondered aloud.

"Excuse me?" The words hung in the air and Rachel narrowed her eyes. "What did I do wrong this time?"

Rachel scoffed, "We barely kiss. And it's usually only when we're at home. Even then, you'd rather lie together than make out."

A darker red overwhelmed the wind-whipped color on Quinn's cheeks, "I just…I haven't…I don't want to push you into anything…"

Rachel set her cup down and gripped the back of Quinn's neck and forcefully pulled her forward into a hungry kiss. Her lips glided against Quinn's and she felt the air catch in her throat. Rachel backed off when she felt Quinn's tongue trace her lip and she watched Quinn's head jerk forward trying to reattach their lips. She nudged Quinn gently.

"Nuh uh. You have to initiate it from now on." Rachel pecked her lips one more time and picked her drink back up, focusing her gaze out onto the small waves. She felt Quinn somehow move even closer.

"So are you excited for Regional's this weekend?" Quinn asked her thoughtfully.

"Much more excited now that we're going ahead with our original song idea." She grinned, "Thanks for that by the way."

Quinn smiled at her, "I'm sure whatever you come up with will be outstanding. You're our star."

Her heart pounded in her chest when she heard Quinn say that. They way her hazel eyes twinkled with adoration made Rachel want to kiss her again, but she pushed the urge away.

"Any ideas?" Quinn asked.

Rachel bit her lip and shook her head, "Not yet. I'm sure I'll find inspiration somewhere."

"Of course you will. But I hope you come up with something soon. I know Mr. Schuester is getting antsy. And trust me; you won't want any of our other member's songs. Artie recorded a little number called _Trouty Mouth_ that Santana wrote," Rachel chuckled, knowing exactly who the target of the song was, "I'll let you hear it when we get home. Finn's been—"

"Finn?" Rachel demanded furiously.

Quinn looked around awkwardly, "Yeah...we talked last night and he said he was worried we wouldn't have a song by Saturday…"

"Last night," Rachel asked, "Before or after I left your house?"

"…after?" her voice was sullen and anticipatory.

It was silent until Rachel said calmly, "Are we _ever_ going to tell anyone about us?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow critically, "Santana and Brittany know." Rachel swatted her thigh. "What?"

"You know that's not what I meant." She said impatiently, scooting a few inches away.

She saw Quinn bite her lip, "I just don't think now is a good time."

"How about _Finn?_ Is it a _good time_ to break up with Finn yet?" Rachel was fuming again.

It irritated Rachel to no end that Quinn still wouldn't come out, even just to their friends. She was getting sick of hiding from everyone and was sure most of them wouldn't care anyway. Quinn's struggles with letting go of Finn and Sam pissed her off even more.

"Rachel," Quinn begged. The girl turned and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Look, I just…I can't do this right now. I'm finally starting to get some credit back. Outwardly dating another _girl_ isn't going to help that."

Rachel felt her jaw drop considerably, "S-So you're a-ashamed of me?"

"No Rachel, that's not it. I promise. I'm afraid of how other people will react." Quinn backtracked, watching the hurt on the Rachel's expression. "I'm just trying to be honest with you."

"Honesty is good in theory Quinn, but it sure as hell hurts worse than a lie." Rachel didn't understand how Quinn could care _that much_ about everyone else's opinions. "So the answer is no then."

"What do you mean?" Quinn tried to catch her stare; Rachel chose not to look her in the eye after that admission. It hurt too much.

"Do you mind taking me home now? I think my fathers might start to get worried."

"Yeah, let's go." Quinn stood up and walked towards the parking lot, with Rachel trailing behind her, sorrow-filled eyes tracing the sidewalk.

* * *

><p>"Good song, Berry," Santana remarked backstage, after they had just been named Regional champions. As much effort as they put into <em>Loser Like Me<em>, Santana knew they owed it to Rachel's song for snagging the win. Something about it was so heart-wrenching and honest that it physically hurt her to hear it. And that surprised her, especially coming from the midget. It gave Santana an inkling that, for her to write a song about such intense heartache, Quinn was certainly screwing something up.

Rachel looked startled to hear the compliment come from Santana's mouth, "T-Thanks Santana. You guys did a great job as well. I'm sad I couldn't contribute more to our other song. But everyone did a wonderful job."

Nodding her head, Santana hummed, "Hmm…wanna talk about it?"

Her question definitely startled the girl. She watched Rachel's eyes widen and then study her carefully, "About what?"

She tossed her head to the side in the direction of their cheering teammates. Brittany, Mike, and Tina were kissing their shiny, new trophy while Quinn watched on in mild hysterics with Artie.

Rachel studied the ground intensely, under Santana's watch. The girl was obviously hurting, and as much as it went against her own nature, Rachel had been there for her on multiple occasions, so Santana walked over to her—after making sure no one was looking. She felt Rachel tense with the proximity but she continued to wrap one arm around her shoulder and lead them away to the green room. When Will questioned her subtly, Santana rolled her eyes and he nodded his head skeptically. _'What an ass,' _she thought.

With the door closed behind them, Rachel fell to the couch and Santana saw she was already crying. "What happened," she questioned gently.

"I can't do it anymore. I can't hide who I really am from everyone we know. That's not who I am. I'm open and honest and—"

"And obnoxious, and annoying," Santana teased until Rachel scowled at her, "Berry, Brittany and I know about you two. I know you're not calling Britts and Me nobodies. Oh! And Tina knows."

The girl looked shocked, "Tina knows?"

"Quinn didn't tell you?" Santana held in a chuckle the best she could.

"No…which isn't surprising…"

"Quinn is not used to having her personal life on display for everyone to see. It's gonna take time for her to be okay with that." The words were hauntingly familiar as Santana almost described herself.

"Well what about Finn?" Rachel threw her hands up, "Explain that to me."

Santana upturned her eyes, trying to remember exactly what Quinn had said to her. "Finn was…going to ask you out I think? She said she was protecting you. From him."

"I don't need protecting," Rachel whispered bitterly.

Putting her hands up in defense, Santana said, "Hey, I'm just telling you what I remember. Look ,she loves you. You have to know that. She has since we were ten years old. Probably before that. Why don't you trust her?"

"I trust her, I just don't understand her." She put her head in her lap and murmured, "It's stupid. At least when I was with Finn people could know and we didn't have to hide everything. It's so frustrating to keep a part of yourself hidden, just because you're scared of what everyone will say…"

"Brittany," she shut her eyes unintentionally until she realized what she had said, "I mean Rachel," it slipped off her tongue so fast Santana couldn't help it. Rachel looked up and stared at her, obviously puzzled.

"What?"

"_Rachel_, she just thinks you'll go back to Finn when it comes down to it. She's afraid."

"What do I give her to be so insecure about?" Rachel yelled. Santana struggled to restrain herself from yelling back.

"Don't you talk to _her_ about it?" Santana asked. She grew more and more uncomfortable with how close to home the conversation hit.

"Not really, every time I do she just says it's not the _right time_. Whatever that means."

"You just have to give her time," Santana argued anxiously, "She'll come around."

The room was eerily quiet. The only sounds came from outside the door where the crowd and their team were still celebrating their win. The contrast was off-putting. As much as Santana wanted to be out there with her friends, it made more sense to be in there, with Rachel. She felt like as much as she was trying to help her and her rocky relationship with Quinn, Santana was learning what felt like a deeper insight into her own problem. Hearing Rachel talk was chilling; most of it sounded like an argument Brittany could have been using tactically against her. Oddly, it made her want to help Rachel more.

"I just don't know if I can wait much longer." Rachel climbed to her feet from the couch and brushed past Santana. The door opened and Santana heard her whisper a tiny, "Thanks, Santana," before she exited.

* * *

><p>"<em>Why are you so stupid?"<em> _Artie asked her impatiently._

_Her heart dropped in her chest. After being accused of cheating, and hearing him insult Santana, it was the last thing she expected him to say. It's not like Brittany hadn't heard it before. Teachers whispered it, students had teased her all her life—except for when Santana was around—and even Mr. Schuester had alluded to it when she joined the Brainiac's. _

_But never Artie. Never the boy who bought her flowers just because, or complimented her dancing relentlessly—although she felt like that had a lot to do with her body. Never the boy she loved. And he had even started helping her improve her grades. It didn't make sense for him now, in the heat of the moment, to call her the one insult she hated hearing more than any other._

_Brittany felt her own face scrunch together in pain. Shocked beyond words, all she could say was, "You were the only person who never called me that."_

Xx

Those red shorts were a dead giveaway for Brittany, but the tears and whimpering were not. Santana put her pink lemonade down by her feet and stood up straight as Brittany moved towards her.

"Brittany? What's wrong?" Brittany came barreling into her chest and wrapped long arms around her neck. Her body was shaking and Santana slung two arms around her waist. "B? What happened?"

Brittany squeezed tighter around her throat and buried her face in Santana's hair. Santana felt powerless to the situation and figured the only thing she could do was hold the girl until she was ready to talk; so she did just that.

She stroked her blonde hair and whispered reassuringly, "You're okay. It's okay. C'mon Britts. Calm down."

Over Brittany's shoulder, Santana glared at passing students who were staring at them. Everyone seemed to take a moment to witness the scene, but she tried her best to scare them off, while still comforting her friend. She noticed Brittany's breathing start to steady.

"Can you talk?" Santana asked softly. Brittany nodded against the skin where her nose touched Santana's neck. "What's going on?"

"He called me stupid…" the girl whispered in a small, broken voice. Her voice was trembling as much as her body.

Rage burst through her chest. It had been a priority of hers to never allow anyone to insult Brittany. No one had crossed that line since she kicked Puck in the balls a few years prior. For Brittany's sake, she kept her voice calm, "Who did?"

"A-A…Artie."

'_Artie?' _Santana practically screamed in her head. _'That son of a bitch!'_ He had her girl, her Brittany, and had the audacity to call her stupid? If Brittany weren't still crying in her arms, Santana would have had Artie halfway into a lake by then. _'On fire. A lake of gasoline,' _the idea needed work but she still had few minutes to plan his untimely death.

"Why would he call you that?" She was impressed by how easily she had controlled her tone.

"I don't really wanna talk about it San. Can we please just go ditch and go home?" Brittany sounded so tired and so upset it broke Santana's heart all over again.

Brittany pulled out of her arms and Santana looked at her sadly, "B, don't listen to him. You may not be smart like the rest of the geeks at this loser school, but I think you're brilliant." She tapped Brittany's nose with her index finger and the girl gave her a halfhearted smile. She reached down and picked up her drink and handed it to the girl. "C'mon," she put an arm around Brittany's shoulder, "let's get out of here."

* * *

><p>The music blared through the speakers. Brittany had the iPod, so Santana wasn't really sure what they were listening to. It didn't really matter to her; the only concern she had was for Brittany herself. She had been mostly silent since they left school, only half-opening her mouth to respond with distant answers. It was honestly kind of frightening for her to watch the girl be so wrapped up in misery that she didn't even seem like Brittany. Sitting on the other side of the car, she was somehow so far away. Santana didn't know what to say, so she simply reached over and grabbed Brittany's hand and pulled it into her lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Brittany's lip twitch up, if only for a second.<p>

* * *

><p>Sitting in the choir room, Rachel tapped her sandal against the metal poll of her chair. She was looking over the songs she could sing for their <em>Fleetwood Mac<em> assignment and pursed her lips in thought. Only a few other people were already in the room: Kurt—after his triumphant return last week to McKinley—sat behind her chatting with Mercedes, Brittany was reapplying her makeup on the highest tier while also shooting painful glares to Artie who sat in front of Rachel, Quinn and Sam had their heads together talking in low voices (and as much as that should have bothered Rachel, she couldn't force herself to care), and Tina and Mike were cuddled up in the back corner oblivious to everyone else.

Finn came charging into the room, pointing accusatory fingers at Quinn, and Rachel had to internally roll her eyes, _'Well I wonder what this could be about.'_ After what happened the night before, she had expected a new outburst at any time from Finn all that day.

"_Where are you going?" Rachel watched Quinn wrap a scarf around her neck and pull it tight against her throat. _

_She had her green jacket buttoned halfway up before she answered Rachel, "I'm going over Sam's to help him babysit."_

"_Babysit?" Rachel sat up from her bed and sat on the bottom edge. Quinn hadn't mentioned anything about it before. But she had been watching the clock meticulously and when it switched to 7:00 she pulled free of Rachel's arms without any explanation._

"_He asked me for help and I told him I would," Quinn answered her easily._

"_You babysat with Puck once, right? When you wanted to see if he was good boyfriend-material?" She asked pointedly, hoping Quinn would realize the implication._

"_I'm just helping him out. It's not like that Rach," Quinn assured her. _

"_What is it like?" Her secretiveness was getting on Rachel's last nerve but she tried to keep calm._

"_I can't tell you."_

_She felt her eyes widen dramatically, "Why not?"_

"_He asked me not to tell anyone. Rachel please don't do this right now, I'm going to be late." _

_Quinn walked away from her towards the door and she sighed, "Whatever, Quinn."_

_She stopped when she reached Rachel's door and paused, "Rachel…it's not like that."_

"_If you say so," Rachel picked up a magazine from her side table and started flipping through it, "Make sure you're other boyfriend doesn't find out, __**he'd**__ be furious."_

Before she had a chance to listen to Finn's threats, Santana tore into the room and started yelling at Brittany about something called _Fondue for Two_. Everyone, including Rachel, watched both arguments play out until Finn left the room, shockingly without kicking a chair over, and Santana took a seat in a chair far away from Brittany. Quinn, who had rushed to Sam's aid when Finn shoved him, claimed the empty seat next to Rachel and leaned into her.

"This is getting ridiculous," she whispered in Rachel's ear.

Rachel nudged her away with her shoulder and sat up straighter, "You're ridiculous."

"What?" Quinn asked her dumbly.

"You act like all this stuff just happens to you. Most of the time it's your fault." Rachel informed her blatantly. The last few weeks had taken their toll and Rachel was finally fed up. She liked Quinn, possibly even loved her, but all of their secrecy was too much for her to handle.

Without another word, Rachel stood up and left the room. She brushed past their confused teacher and continued out of the choir room, letting Quinn's eyes follow her in confusion.

* * *

><p>Brittany watched Santana wipe away the rogue tears that escaped during her performance, and lifted a finger to swipe away her own. It had been a week since Artie had called her stupid and she ultimately broke it off with him later that night. Santana had been there every day to hold her through the endless tears and never brought up her own feelings. Allowing Brittany to work through the breakup for as long as she needed, made her love Santana more—if that were even possible.<p>

The room was quiet in the aftermath of Santana's song and Brittany whispered, "That was beautiful." And it was. She knew what the girl was trying to say to her; that she wanted Brittany to be happy and especially if it meant she could be the one to cause that happiness. Her heart swelled with pride that Santana was declaring her love in song, but she couldn't help but a little disappointed that she was the only one there to hear it. _'Well, other than Brad…'_

"Why couldn't you sing that to me in front of everyone?" Brittany asked, trying to stay optimistic.

Santana pushed her straightened hair back behind one ear and shook her head. "I'm not ready…for everyone to know."

Brittany internally sighed, "Santana…"

Closing the distance between them, Santana grabbed her hand, "B, I love you. Isn't that what matters?"

Brittany got out of her chair and pulled Santana along to stand together at the piano. She looked at Brad awkwardly and he left the room in a rush. _'Why was he still here?'_ she wondered and looked back at Santana who was staring at her, eyes full of worry. Her lip was trapped between her teeth and Brittany chuckled at how adorable she looked. Brittany took both of Santana's hands and intertwined their fingers. Her thumbs traced over the brunette's knuckles and she felt Santana's heartbeat pickup where the heels of their hands met. The pulsing quickened between their palms.

"I have an idea," she whispered.

Santana smirked back at her, "Oh really?" Her own heart pounded harder against her ribcage.

She blushed, "No, not that. I could tell everyone about me first."

The other girl's mouth bobbed open slightly, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Brittany shrugged, "If it makes anything easier, I'll do it. I don't think they'd be all that surprised about me to be honest." Santana smiled sweetly.

Another idea flashed through Brittany's mind, "What about prom?"

"Prom?" Santana squinted at her. The way her face scrunched up was even more adorable than the lip-biting.

"Come on _Fondue for Two_. I'll tell you how I feel about you and ask you to prom. Everyone will know and we won't have to tell them face to face." Brittany suggested. She wanted Santana to be comfortable above everything else.

'_This is the perfect idea!'_ Brittany thought. She didn't think Santana could argue her way out of that one. Scanning the brunette's face, Brittany wasn't blind to her hesitation. But it seemed like such a good plan. She squeezed Santana's fingers, trying to give her every bit of reassurance possible.

"Okay," Santana whispered and Brittany squealed in excitement. Their hands detached and Brittany flung her arms around Santana's neck. She felt the girl chuckle into their embrace and then tighten two hands around the small of her back.

"I love you," Brittany grinned at being able to say it aloud and figured she always would. Better than the fluttering of her own heart, was the feeling of Santana's beating out of rhythm against her chest.

"I love you too," Santana whispered in her ear and pulled back; just enough so they could see each other.

Their eyes met and Brittany couldn't think of a time when she had been happier. She felt her smile explode and watched Santana mimic the reaction. Brittany leaned in, for the first time in what had seemed like forever, and touched her lips to Santana's so lightly, she wasn't even sure if it counted as a kiss. Her pulse quickened when the other girl pressed further to connect them fully. With one lip trapped between Santana's deliciously smooth ones, Brittany backed off only a fraction of an inch before surging forward and slipping her tongue into Santana's mouth. It was welcomed hungrily and Brittany swam in the intimacy. This was their first kiss initiated by love rather than sex. The true passion of the moment made her knees buckle and she relied on Santana's hands, still locked together above her waist, to hold her up. Santana broke them off and kissed the corner of her smile, continuing down her jaw and then retracing the path back to Brittany's mouth.

Brittany took a much needed breath and rested her forehead against Santana's. "I missed your sweet lady kisses," she whispered in an airy voice.

"Me too," Santana replied and pecked her lips again, "But they don't have to end here."

"Your house?" Brittany asked with a smirk and kissed Santana's cheek.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah this one wasn't supposed to have a happy ending but I honestly am in too good of a mood to write more angst. ^That scene was for you guys, I proof read it like 3 times to make sure I liked it. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Thanks for reading :) Next chapter will be Prom, the re-emergence of Jesse, and Nationals. Teaser: It's ~single~ Brittana on a plane, what did you think was gonna happen?**


	30. will we be in love forever?

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**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I sat down with the intention of writing a prom/new york chapter and it ended up being prom/funeral. Sorry I have a really crappy updating schedule but I've been extremely busy lately. It's hard to get the motivation to write a chapter for this when I'm writing 3 short stories a week for classes. Anyways enough of my whining, a couple of you were dreading the Fondue for Two scene and I felt so bad cause it had to happen. I'm sorry! A lot goes down in this chapter and I think you'll be happy with how Brittana ends up, so if it feels hopeless, just read on. I even made it end on a semi-happy note. A lot of interactions: we've gotten (of course) Brittana and Faberry and also Fuinn, Finchel, Samtana, Samtofsky? (is that a thing), Santofsky, St. Fabray, St. Berry, Quitt and the Unholy Trinity. (I didn't need to list those but it was actually super fun) Oh! And lots of Tina, for some reason I got Tina-happy this chapter. Okay go read, sorry about this. **

**As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! (Guys seriously stop following the story it's too much pressure ;)  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Brittany's room was barely lit up in the afternoon glow of the sun. The light filtered in through the slotted shades and cast a shadow on Brittany and Santana's faces. They were lying horizontally on their backs across the bed, letting their heads hang off the side closest to the window. Brittany felt her orange top ride up to mid-stomach but couldn't bother with fixing it, content to keep watching Santana with her eyes shut humming <em>Songbird<em> softly. She knew it would be their song; years in the future, when someone asked them about it, they would look at each other, chuckle, and Brittany would proudly say the title. When she remembered that only a few hours ago Santana had professed her love via song, and had agreed to be her prom date, it made her heart flutter. _'Everything is so perfect,' _she thought and rolled onto her stomach.

"How did you come up with _Fondue for Two_?" Santana opened one eye to look at her.

Brittany grinned, "You don't remember?" Santana shook her head. "The week Jacob put up his website? And Quinn used to make us watch the videos of Rachel that he distorted and tweaked to make her sound like a drag queen."

She watched the knowing smirk appear on Santana's cheeks, "Oh yeah! I wish we still had some of those."

"_Anyways_," Brittany continued, "I told you we should make videos like Rachel, but we had to include something I liked."

"Mhm, and you suggested cheese," Santana snickered, "_'Cause who doesn't like cheese?'_"

Brittany smacked her arm, "Everyone loves cheese!"

"Except those people who have to poop every time they eat it," Santana suggested.

Brittany sat up, "That's disgusting!"

"Do you not like cheese now?" Santana challenged her playfully, not making any effort to look at her.

'_Of course not,' _Brittany smiled and laid back down next to Santana and propped her head up on her hands. "I love cheese."

She peered down at Santana who was now looking at her, "Even if it makes people poop?"

"Everything makes people poop. That'd be like you not liking breadsticks," Brittany argued. _'Why are we talking about pooping?'_

"Why are we talking about pooping?" Santana chuckled and sat up, crossing her legs between them.

Brittany shrugged her shoulders, "So how do you want to do this?"

"Do what?" Santana's eyes shifted nervously and it made her cringe internally.

"The video?" She stretched her arm out and ran fingernails along the inside of Santana's wrist comfortingly. It seemed to be having the opposite effect when the girl started fidgeting her legs.

"We're doing that tonight?" Santana looked outside distantly, and Brittany grabbed her wrist.

"It's going to be okay, Tana. It'll be quick, like a band aid," she tried to smile reassuringly.

She heard Santana mutter, "…that doesn't stop it from hurting…"

"Look at me," Brittany tugged her wrist until she got her attention, "We're doing this together. I'll be right next to you the whole time."

A smile was all she got, one that didn't quite match the stormy brown eyes a few inches up, "Alright."

"I'll set up the camera," Brittany leaped off the bed excitedly and ran to slam the doors of her closet open. She pulled the tripod out and walked across the room to fix it in front of her bed.

As she was adjusting the lens angle towards the head of the bed, Santana's voice distracted her, "Actually do you mind if I go home and change first?"

She eyed the pink top Santana had on, "Change? You look pretty damn good right now, why would you need to change?"

Santana smirked slightly but it fell away just as fast as it came, "I just want to put on something a little more comfortable…okay?"

Brittany turned to her own closet, overflowing with clothes that she had crammed into every spare inch of space, _'Why can't she just borrow something from me?'_

"I guess," she tossed the grey lens cap onto the bed, "Coming right back though, right?"

The other girl nodded, "Right back." Santana stood and closed the small gap between them. She grabbed both of Brittany's hands and pecked her on the lips. Brittany swiped at her own lips with her tongue to savor the excess of Santana's lip gloss as the girl pulled away.

Santana slipped on a white pair of Brittany's flip flops and left the room. Brittany waited a few minutes before moving over to the window and watching the girl trek across the front lawn to her car, parked against the curb. It took a long time for Santana to pull away but when she finally did, Brittany threw herself onto the bed, content to take a little nap until she came back.

* * *

><p>"Mija, you want dinner?" Out in the hallway, her mom called through the heavy wooden door that was barely cracked open.<p>

"No Mami, I'm good," she tried her best to still her breath and sound normal. The last thing she needed was her mom coming in to investigate. With her eyes wide in anticipation, she refreshed the page one more time hoping the link would never appear. In her dark room, the white web page burned into her retinas, creating a white film in her vision when she looked anywhere else but at the screen. The pain was a well deserved punishment.

Santana eyed the clock. _'9:38,'_ she thought, almost three hours since she had left Brittany's. From her first step outside the front door, she had no intention of coming back. She couldn't do it. _'It was too soon,_' she reasoned with herself, twirling once in her computer chair to pass the time. She looked back at the clock: _9:38._ _"_God damn it!_"_ she yelled and clicked the refresh button a few more times.

'_Maybe she didn't make one,'_ it was wishful thinking; Brittany always made videos on Fridays. _'Maybe she called Quinn or Rachel and asked them to come on the show.' _In her heart she knew it wouldn't be that easy. She looked across the room and saw her phone still lying open on her pillow. The screen had turned black long since the last time she had used it. Since her text to Brittany that housed her explanation. _'Explanation,_' she pushed her eyes shut remembering the words, begging for the tears to stay at bay.

The screen flickered and her tired eyes shot back to the screen. Nothing showed up, so Santana thought nothing of it. _'One more click and then I'm turning it off,'_ she moved her mouse back to the button and refreshed one last time.

_NEW CONTENT_ flashed at the top of the browser and her heart sunk seeing the little image of Brittany sitting in the chair next to her bed. With a deep breath she clicked on the video and sat back in her chair watching her screen turn black as it loaded.

The _Fondue for Two_ theme song blared through her speakers and she fumbled to twist the volume down before someone came to chastise her for the noise. She watched the clips play through, most of them she had filmed herself.

"_Put the pen up by your mouth," she instructed Brittany who had run out of ideas, "Like you just had a great idea."_

"_Like this," Brittany posed and the look of shock drove Santana to hysterics. People looked at them awkwardly in the cafeteria and she made no effort to drive them away._

"_Yes! B, that's perfect!" She grinned at Brittany's image on the small digital screen._

When it ended, instantly Santana was met with Brittany's face looking grim and devastated. She slammed her hand down on the spacebar to pause the video, feeling tears boiling under the rims of her eyelids. After a few more calming breaths, she pressed down again and allowed the clip to continue.

"_Welcome to Fondue for Two. My guest today was supposed to be Santana, but," _Santana knew it was coming and her heart dropped in her stomach, _'she texted about an hour ago and it just said," _she thought the words just as Brittany uttered them, _"'I can't.'" _Her fingers crept slowly to the pause button again in the middle of Brittany's dejected shrug and Santana wept. She covered her mouth with one hand to muffle the sobs and drug the cursor back to the beginning of Brittany's dialogue and let go.

_Welcome to Fondue for Two. _Santana knew she should be blaming herself. _My guest today was supposed to be Santana. 'But she's a coward,'_ she thought and dug the heels of her palms against her eyeballs. _But she texted about an hour ago, and it just said 'I can't.' _Brittany didn't deserve it. Santana coiled over in her chair and crammed her head between her knees. Her chest heaved, and she didn't understand when she had become so pathetic. Brittany was going out on a limb for her, like she always did, and she couldn't even show up for a thirty second interview telling the world how much the girl meant to her.

Santana sat up and drug the cursor back again and watched it again.

_Welcome to Fondue for Two. My guest today was supposed to be Santana, but she texted about an hour ago, and it just said 'I can't'. _

And again.

_Welcome to Fondue for Two. My guest today was supposed to be Santana, but she texted about an hour ago, and it just said 'I can't'. _

Over and over again, until she fell asleep with her face smashed against the keyboard. She drifted into unconsciousness with _'I can't'_ ringing in her ears.

* * *

><p>"The original song idea was good, but I think if we're going to win Nationals we need to do a duet," Finn urged her impatiently. It was <em>so nice<em> of Finn to assume they could go back right to being friends without so much as an acknowledgement of their breakup. Rachel tapped her fingers against the inside of her locker and listened to him continue his argument, "We're amazing when we sing together. It'll guarantee us a win."

"We've never won with a duet," Rachel muttered under her breath. Finn looked at her with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look Finn, I understand what you're suggesting, I just don't think it's a good idea…with Quinn and all." Her thoughts drifted to how little she had seen of Quinn since their exchange in the choir room. She had texted the girl a few times with apologies and never received anything back.

"It's like Mr. Schue said, she can't decide who sings with who right? If the team wants us to sing, we can sing." He looked proud of his reasoning.

"I don't want to cause problems." Rachel said simply. _'At least I don't have to lie __**all**__the time,' _she thought regretfully.

Finn fell back against the locker, "This isn't fair. I'm so tired of having to accommodate to everything Quinn wants to do. It's like prom; I don't even want to go. She needs it to be perfect and I know I'm going to screw it up somehow."

It stung to hear Finn complain about _having _to go to prom with Quinn. Rachel would give anything for that opportunity. "Can I help?" The question surprisingly slipped from her mouth. Part of her wanted to help Finn, but another part also wanted to contribute to making Quinn's prom perfect. It was an odd combination, as Rachel felt both her feelings for Finn and Quinn battle it out internally.

"I don't know. Maybe," his face lit up with an idea, "What about the corsage?"

'_The corsage_,' Rachel wondered, had they gone together, how that situation would have played out for two girls. Would they have bought them for each other? She pictured sliding the perfect selection of flowers across the smooth skin on Quinn's wrist. "What color is her dress?"

"Uh," Finn squinted trying to picture it, "hang on I think she sent me a picture of it." He dug through his pockets and pulled his phone out and tapped a few button before twisting the screen around for Rachel to see.

Quinn had obviously taken the picture in a floor mirror at the store in the dressing room. Her hair was down in the simple, wavy style she had worn it in the day before, and it fell on her shoulders. After studying her face for a brief second, Rachel dropped her eyes to study the light blue dress. The shear straps clung to her shoulders and trailed down into jewels, and then the color faded out the farther down the dress you went. It was gorgeous and she pictured once again, slipping a flowered arrangement onto the girl's wrist while she stared into Quinn's brilliant hazel eyes. Her heart was starting to feel strained in her chest and she had to push the screen away.

Clearing her throat to collect herself, Rachel drew her face into a half-hearted smile and looked up at Finn, "With a girl like," she stuttered to say her name, "Quinn, you don't want to detract from her face. Ask for a gardenia," the white flower was all she could imagine complimenting that dress without being tacky, "with a light green ribbon to match her eyes."

Rachel reinforced her smile for a second and closed her locker. She walked away from Finn and felt the tears start streaming down her face as she brushed past Jacob Ben Israel. She disregarded his drawn microphone and his face that looked as mischievous as ever.

Xx

Quinn was re-sorting the books in her locker when heavy breathing caught her attention. She turned around to see the awkward, pale face of Jacob Ben Israel glaring at her.

"Can I help you, Jacob?" She scowled at him and chuckled internally when she saw his bottom lip quiver.

He thrust his mic into her face, "What can you tell me about the rumors concerning you and Rachel Berry?"

Her heart thudded in her chest and she scrambled to keep the panic off of her face, "Excuse me?"

"Rumor has it, you don't have as much control over football captain Finn Hudson as you'd like everyone to think," Quinn's pulse started calming down until he continued, "Looks like Rachel might be on the move to steal the bloated man-child back from you."

"What do you mean?" It wasn't normal for her to entertain any of Jacob's stupid antics but anything concerning Rachel was something she wanted to hear.

"Listen for yourself," he pulled the tape recorder from his two-sizes-too-small jeans and clicked the play button for her to listen.

Quinn heard Finn's voice groaning through the tiny speaker, _"This isn't fair. I'm so tired of having to accommodate to everything Quinn wants to do. It's like prom; I don't even want to go." _She clenched her teeth in anger. It was enough for him to be rude to her, but going behind her back and bitching to someone was even more aggravating.

"_Can I help?"_ Rachel's voice startled her. Even though Jacob mentioned her, she hadn't expected this conversation to go on between them.

Jacob pulled the machine down but continued to let it play in the background, "Any comments?" He put the microphone back in her face.

"Yeah," she slammed her locker, "here's one. Upload that audio and I'll take the original and shove it down your throat."

He gulped visibly as Finn's voice still went on at a low volume. "You don't scare me."

"Really Jacob?" She approached him slowly, "You're trembling sort of begs to differ."

He took an uncomfortable step back and she matched it. Just as Rachel's voice started to resonate again, Quinn reached down and snatched the recorder out of his grasp. Jacob gasped in fear when she made the move towards him.

"Get out of here." She growled and he scurried away. Quinn watched him go with a smirk and remembered the tape. She brought it up to her ear and listened to the rest.

_With a girl like Quinn, you don't want to detract from her face._ Hearing Rachel describe her so thoughtfully made her smile. _Ask for a gardenia, with a light green ribbon to match her eyes._ The tone of Rachel's voice changed drastically and made her chest ache. It was so somber and gloomy. Quinn quickly made the decision to find Rachel and apologize for ignoring her.

She reopened her locker and dropped the tape recorder on top of her coat and shut the door. Turning around she collided into someone and fell to her butt on the hard tile floor.

"Quinn Fabray," she would recognize the snarky voice anywhere as she took the offered hand of Jesse St. James.

"Jesse," she let him pull her to her feet and brushed her dress off, "What do I owe the displeasure?"

"Ouch. Still holding hostilities after we crushed you at Regional's last year?" He remarked, pulling mindlessly at his dark grey scarf. Quinn had to laugh at his sense of style; it was up there with Kurt's in terms of ridiculousness.

"How about, still holding hostility after you egged one of my teammates who also happened to be your girlfriend?" She quipped and started off down the hallway.

He called after her, "If I remember correctly, you didn't care so much for our Rachel back then."

Quinn stopped in her tracks and turned around, "She was my teammate."

Jesse laughed condescendingly, "Okay Quinn, whatever you say. Rachel has chosen to forgive me and I hope you and the rest of your merry band of rejects can do the same. Maybe you and I can even share a dance at prom?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well since you asked so nicely," then it dawned on her, "Wait? Prom?"

He chuckled, "Your _teammate_ has allowed me to be her escort for the dance. I figured as close as you two _obviously_ are she would have told you that."

Jesse smirked at Quinn one last time and turned his back to exit the empty hallway.

* * *

><p>Knowing Brittany would be avoiding their usual table outside, Santana pushed through the side doors in the cafeteria and took a seat on the highest steps overlooking the patio. There still weren't a lot of people willing to brave the mild weather in early April, so she still had a lot of open space to relax for the rest of lunch. She picked through the salad on her lap with a fork and regretted not grabbing the cookies; not being on the Cheerio's she had no real reason to deny her sugar cravings. <em>'Sylvester must have ruined me,'<em> Santana thought as she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth.

Frantic waving across the stairs got her attention. Sam, Tina, and Mike were sitting on the opposite side of the courtyard and were simply waving hello. She tipped her head once to acknowledge them and let her eyes wander around the tables near them, just in case Brittany had joined them. The only other people she recognized were at a table a few feet away from Sam's: Azimio, Karofsky, and a few other football players she never bothered to learn the names of. When she looked back at the other table, Sam was missing.

"Hey Santana," he dropped down on the other side of her. She jumped considerably and put a hand over her chest.

"Jesus Christ! You gave me a heart attack!" She slapped at his arm a few times and he recoiled back in mock fear.

"Ow! Stop it. Abuse!" Sam yelled playfully and shoved her.

Delivering one swift punch to his shoulder, Santana scowled, "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to hit a girl?"

"You hit me first!" He protested and leaned back against the cement steps. "What're you eating alone for?"

"Just wanted to be alone." Her hands twitched and she grabbed her fork to give them something to do. Sam's watchful stare made her uneasy as she brought a carrot to her mouth slowly.

"You could've ate with us," he offered.

"That would defeat the purpose of 'alone' then now wouldn't it?" Santana smirked and set the plastic container of salad down next to her thigh, "Do you need something?"

He looked hesitant and she tried her best to soften her features to calm him down, "Are we…we're okay right?"

"You're okay with us being broken up, right?" She asked him coolly, without any malice, and Sam nodded. "Then we're fine."

His ridiculously large mouth turned up into a huge smile, "Awesome. I just wanted to make sure."

"Okay then," she gave him a tiny smile and picked her food back up. When he didn't leave right away, she eyed him curiously. "Anything else?" she added nervously.

Sam took a deep breath, "Was it someone else? Is that why you got distant?"

"No, why would you think that," she felt her walls go up and the defensiveness in her own voice sounded unconvincing.

Shrugging, Sam sat up properly, "Just wondering." He reached back into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag and dropped it into her lap, "Here, saw you eyeing 'em in the lunch line."

The tiny bag held two untouched chocolate chip cookies and she grinned, "Thanks Sam." Santana leaned over and pecked him on the cheek and his smile grew tenfold. He stood and walked back towards his table and her stare followed him back.

There was nothing wrong with Sam and Santana partly felt guilty for all of the bullshit he had to go through with Quinn and now her. After Puck, and her brief whatever with Finn, Sam was as close to perfect as she could have gotten; if she wasn't head over heels in love with Brittany.

As he rounded the last curve of their table, Santana caught a glance of something she hadn't expected to see in a million years. _'What the hell?' _she thought when she saw Dave Karofsky give Sam a once over before setting his gaze firmly on Sam's ass until it disappeared out of his line of vision. Then he went right back to chatting it up with Azimio without a second thought.

'_Karofsky?' _Suddenly the constant teasing and harassment made sense; _'Dave is into Kurt!'_ Santana was wide eyed watching the macho defensive lineman and thought about how alike they were. She wondered if any of his friends knew, but then quickly dismissed the idea knowing how cruelly the McKinley's high society treated their outcasts. Hell, it was the reason she was so terrified of anyone finding out about her. What they truly needed was some show of popularity that proved they were still on top of the social pyramid, so that they could eventually show their true selves and Santana could be the girl Brittany deserved. Then an idea hit her.

'_Prom'_

Xx

Strutting into the Lima Bean like he owned the place, Santana watched Dave scan the crowd of faces searching for her. When he caught her eye, he smirked and marched straight up to the table.

"Santana Lopez," her name dripped off of his lips and it sounded so sickening her stomach lurched, "it's about time."

"Time for what?" She asked impatiently and clicked her nails together.

"Every time you and Brittany screwed your way through the football team, I felt left out," he snickered, "it hurt my feelings."

"Save your breath Karofsky, I know the truth," she wanted to punch him in the crotch for bringing up Brittany but she held her tongue.

"The truth about what?" Looking around the coffee shop nervously, he took his seat.

"That you're gay." His eyes widened and he clenched his teeth.

"Who told you that?" Dave spat and she smirked back at him. She could imagine the frenzy he must have been in; had the tables been reversed she would be halfway out of the door by now.

"No one had to tell me, I saw you checkin' out Trouty's ass the other day," she laughed, "very subtle."

His fingers fidgeted nervously and he scooted the chair back, "I have to go." The noise attracted the barista's attention and he scowled at the two of them.

"Sit down," she commanded and he seemed too shocked to move.

Dave arched his shoulders forward, "What do you want, Lopez?"

The amused smile slid from her lips, "Look, I'm not gonna tell anyone okay. I think we can help each other out." Sighing, Dave slumped down in his chair.

"Why would you want to help me?" He asked spitefully.

"Because," she lowered her voice considerably, "we play for the same team." Santana watched his eyes widened comically.

"Same team?" The amusement on his face made her irritation spike. From someone who had to understand what she was going through, Santana thought he might be a little more considerate.

Nodding, she picked up her coffee and took a sip while casually looking around to make sure no one heard her. She knew she needed to keep control of the situation and looking like a scared puppy threw that out of the window.

"Wow," Dave mused and sat back in the wooden chair, letting it scrape the floor loudly.

"I'm not ready for the whole world to know, and I am sure as hell _you _wouldn't appreciate your meathead friends finding out, so I have an idea."

"Shoot," she saw he knew he didn't have much of an option at that point and went on with her point.

"What we need is some kind of solidarity at that school, something to give us permanent popularity," she smirked, "and I know exactly how to do that."

His own smirk seemed kind of uneasy as he leaned in, "And how's that?"

"We will win Prom king and queen, and rub it in everyone's faces until they understand we run McKinley. It's a win-win for both of us." It seemed like a flawless enough plan.

"What about the golden couple?"

'_Shit,'_ Santana thought; she hadn't considered Quinn's campaign for queen.

"Quinn is ruthless, trust me I know that for a fact. She'll do whatever it takes to win. But I have inside information that says Hudson doesn't have his whole head in the game. And that makes them weak. As much as people fear Fabray, they fear the two of us more."

Dave grinned, "So intimidation?"

She returned his cocky smirk, "It's what we do best," she couldn't resist making a playful wink at him, "So are you in are not?"

He deliberated for what seemed like forever and Santana almost considered walking out with her dignity intact until he finally nodded his head and looked her in the eye.

"Yeah, I'm in."

* * *

><p>The next day, the New Directions were crowded around a couple of lunch tables Puck and Finn had pushed together so they could discuss the arrangements for Sue's sister's funeral service the next day. Kurt and Finn had done their best to comfort her, and ended up suggesting them to perform during it and they were all especially surprised she took them up on the offer.<p>

"Nothing like a funeral after prom night," Kurt spoke miserably and slid his pizza around the plate on his tray.

"I wasn't even sure Coach Sylvester would have a service, let alone letting us perform," Tina added from across the lunch table.

Quinn sat on the far end with Finn on one side and Rachel on the other and dropped her hand to Rachel's lap where the girl clutched it firmly in two hands. Rachel had been teary eyed all day after hearing the news and they had skipped gym class to talk it out behind the bleachers.

_They sat on the gravel pavement and watched their classmates kick a soccer ball around haphazardly. Rachel had been mostly quiet since Mr. Schuester had come into the choir room and told them the news. Quinn didn't really understand why she was so upset, but held fast to Rachel's side until they found themselves there. _

"_It's just so sad," Rachel whimpered and leaned her head against Quinn's shoulder, "Did she know anything was wrong?"_

_Quinn shrugged against Rachel's temple, "I don't really know. She hasn't had any reason to talk to me since we quit Cheerio's. It surprisingly hurt that she wasn't the one to tell me. We had some kind of sick mentor-mentee relationship when I was on the squad and I guess I sorta hoped to still have that connection. I don't know, maybe that's stupid."_

_Rachel kissed her shoulder, "It's not stupid. Although, it's not who I would personally recommend as a role model, I understand the sentimentality." _

_She let her cheek rest on Rachel's head, "Yeah," she shut her eyes, "we shouldn't think about Sunday, we still have Saturday to look forward to."_

_Rachel stiffened and muttered, "Yeah…Saturday."_

"_Excited to go with Jesse?" Her voice was free of implication._

_It was Rachel's turn to shrug, "I don't know, I'm sure we'll have fun with Mercedes and Sam. I'd rather be going with you though."_

_Quinn sat up, "Rachel…"_

_Rachel brushed her tears away, "Its fine. I don't want to talk about it..." She nuzzled closer into Quinn, "Let's just sit here."_

Santana voice bombarded through the group as she sat down, "It was her sister Chang, what did you expect?" Quinn suppressed a smirk after Mike looked up when the name—that was his too—was said.

"Look even if Sue is a monster to us, she's still a human being," Quinn mentioned calmly, "and she deserves as much comfort as we can give her." Rachel gripped her hand tighter and she squeezed back. As close as Finn was, they were lucky he was completely oblivious to the exchange.

"Exactly, and Kurt and I promised her, so we're doing it," Finn boasted and everyone nodded in agreement. Quinn watched Brittany cower into Tina's side, who seemed stunned at the action and wondered why she hadn't leaned the other direction into Santana. She wasn't blind to see the obvious glare Santana was shooting at Tina and contained her own confused expression.

A tug on her hand made Quinn look down into Rachel's dark brown eyes, still glossy and distressed, and saw her nod her head towards Brittany. Rachel seemed just as aware as she was about whatever was going on between Brittany and Santana so she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

* * *

><p>Green dress twirling around her, Brittany shut her eyes and let the music overpower her body. She shut out everyone around her and just danced. After fulfilling her quota of dancing with everyone else's dates—including Mike, gaining a few innocent glares from Tina—she was content to just spend the rest of the time floating around the gymnasium floor. The only person she wanted to dance with, had made it very clear it wasn't a possibility and had showed up with her own date, so Brittany felt no responsibility to break that barrier. She even spent some time mending fences—a phrase he had said, but she didn't quite understand considering they were indoors—with Artie and had danced a little with him. Any moment she caught a slight glance of anyone wearing red, she quickly clamped her eyes closed and grabbed the closest person to use as a shield.<p>

"Are you okay?" Tina slid up and tapped her on the shoulder.

Opening her eyes, Brittany smiled, "I'm great, why?"

"Just asking," the girl said and pointed at the refreshment table, "Do you want to get a drink?"

The thick air was getting stale quick and she thought it might be nice to take a break, so she nodded and followed Tina off the floor.

"Where's Mike?" She yelled, fighting with the music to be heard.

Tina shrugged, "Not sure. Somewhere with Artie."

"Ah," Brittany pursed her lips and nodded.

They each got a cup of punch—Brittany was sad Puck clearly hadn't gotten around to spiking it yet—and perused the crowd of people.

"Who's next singing?" Sipping her drink, Brittany kept her eyes straight ahead.

"Rachel I think," Tina chuckled, "a slow song probably."

"We need slower songs. So everyone gets to dance with their dates," Brittany offered and then frowned, "It sucks for Rach though. She won't get to dance with Jesse."

Tina shook her head, "I still can't believe she showed up with him," her mouth got wide, "Oh! Speaking of unlikely dates, did you know Santana was coming with Karofsky?"

"No," she said sadly, "I didn't know."

Apparently, Tina hadn't caught on to her tone that was begging to have the topic dropped, "When I saw their name on the ballet I had to reread it like…5 times. That's unreal."

"Yup," Brittany downed the rest of her cup, "I'm gonna head back out there, okay? Maybe I'll see you later."

"Alright, have fun Brittany!" Tina beamed at her and she returned it timidly.

She pushed through the edge of the crowd and tried to force her way back to the middle. Slick, sweaty bodies slipped by her and she gagged at the sensation. It only made her walk faster; unfortunately when she finally broke out of the pack, she crashed into a pair or people standing still in the center of the room.

"Brittany?" Santana asked her awkwardly, "Hey! Having fun?"

Seeing Dave's confused face stare back at her twisted her stomach and she muttered, "Sorry…"

"You don't have to be sorry B," Santana whispered softly, "Come dance with us?" Dark eyes pleaded with her silently and she dismissed them by looking away.

"I have to go," she said and turned on her heel, forcing her way back through the crowd.

Xx

Sam's voice echoed through the loud speaker, _"We're gonna slow it down a little bit for y'all! My pleasure to present Rachel Berry!" _Rachel took the stage slowly and put a hand up to shade her eyes from the blaring spotlight; it's not like she wasn't used to it, but she had every reason to be nervous. Since picking her song, she knew two people would believe they were the target. And Rachel herself wasn't entirely sure who it was for. Something about the song drove her to pick it over everything else, even when Mr. Schuester insisted she choose something more upbeat. Rachel stepped up to the microphone, and felt all of her uneasiness wash away. She was at home on a stage, not even a crowd of her threatening peers could deter her from the high of performing.

Someone somewhere adjusted the light out of her eyes and she could see everyone's faces in the crowd. Instantly, her eyes sought out the intended audience. They were staring and waiting like everyone else. With one last final breath, Rachel signaled the band and she sang the opening lyrics to _Jar of Heart_s.

xx

Finn and Quinn locked arms and began to adjust to the slower tempo, just as everyone else around them did. Rachel's voice overpowered the accompanying instruments and Quinn felt like she was in a bubble entirely of Rachel. When she was lucky enough to be facing the stage, Quinn made sure to give her proud and adoring looks. Rachel didn't seem responsive to any of them, and before she got a chance to question her, Finn had spun her so he got a chance to see the stage. _'Like I don't know what you're doing,' _she thought bitterly and pulled him closer.

Xx

The song ended and Rachel flashed a grandiose grin at the applause filling the gymnasium. Being used to thrown shoes and jeering, it was fulfilling for her to realize her classmates actually realized her talent. She bowed a few times and waved happily at Jesse who was whistling the loudest at her performance. One last look and her eyes came to rest on the pair of Finn and Quinn. Finn looked like he was on the verge of tears and Quinn wasn't far behind. They both stood motionless evaluating the scene and Rachel figured they were lost trying to interpret her song. With one last final bow, Rachel left the stage and passed Blaine who high-fived her on the way up.

Xx

Quinn watched Jesse lean into Rachel and watched him mouth _'Do you wanna get out of here?'_ She saw a panic-stricken Rachel nod silently and felt a surge of jealousy rip through her chest. Before Quinn got a chance to intervene, Finn had already stormed towards the giggling pair and grabbed Jesse roughly by the lapel of his jacket.

"What the hell Frankenstein?" Jesse yelled and shoved his hand away. Quinn ran up beside them and could do nothing but watch.

"She's staying here," Finn demanded and put himself in front of Rachel, who looked utterly disgusted at his show of possession.

"She's not your girlfriend," Jesse argued and looked flippantly at Quinn, "Or maybe I'll take your date home, I'm not picky."

She scowled at him and flipped him off, "Screw you St. James."

"That's the point," He winked at her and Rachel scoffed.

"Jesse, stop. I think we should just leave," Rachel whispered calmly.

Finn turned on Rachel, "You're not going anywhere with him."

"It's none of your business," Quinn reasoned and tried to restrain him, "Knock it off Finn."

"Listen to your girlfriend," Jesse smirked and stepped around him to put an arm across Rachel's shoulder.

Finn pulled harshly out of Quinn's grasp and swung a fist at Jesse. Rachel had pushed him out of the way so all his hand connected with was air. When Jesse regained his footing, he swung at Finn, who dodged it easily.

"Stop!" Rachel screeched and Quinn saw she was on the brink of crying.

"Alright, Liberace you're out of here. You too Lurch!" Sue's voice boomed through the crowd and she ushered Finn and Jesse out of the room.

Quinn looked to Rachel and grabbed her shoulder, "Are you okay?" With Rachel basically cowering in fear, she had no ounce of concern for Finn, and especially not for Jesse.

Shuffling out of her grip, Rachel yelled, "No, I'm not Quinn! I'm leaving." Rachel stormed off past the crowd of staring faces and slammed the door to the bathroom open. She startled a few of the girls reapplying lip gloss and they scowled at her. Quinn followed quickly behind her and watched Rachel turn on the faucet and wash her hands uselessly.

"Rachel don't leave, they haven't even announced prom king and queen yet," she reasoned and tried to get her to stay. With Finn gone, maybe they could enjoy the rest of the night together.

"I don't care about who wins the stupid crowns! I can't believe that's the only thing you're worried about right now!" Rachel was fuming and attracting the attention of the few other people in the bathroom and that put Quinn even more on edge. With a glare, she forced them out of the tiny room.

Once everyone was gone, she stepped closer, "Can we not do this right now?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and lowered her voice, "I'll make it easy for you and we don't have to do it ever. I'm done Quinn. I can't do this anymore."

Her dreadful heart clamored in her chest, and Quinn looked at her own reflection in the mirror before asking, "Done? What does that mean?"

"It's over," Rachel caught her eyes through the mirror, "we're over."

"Please don't do this right now. I'll break up with Finn and we can just be together, no one else," she begged and let some of the tears break through, "Just, please, don't do this. You can't just decide it's over on your own." All of the air rushed out of her lungs and she felt like the tile walls were closing in. She couldn't lose Rachel, not because of Finn or any other guys.

She heard Rachel's breathing pick up and then she was yelling again, "It's not about him and I don't want to break up Quinn, but I don't see any other option at this point. We can't move forward. _Y__ou_ won't let us move forward! A month from now would you be okay with everyone knowing about us? Answer that before you put any of the blame on me!"

"No, Rachel, I wouldn't. Because I'm not like you, I can't ignore what people think of me!"

"You think I ignore what everyone says behind my back? You think I ignored it, every time you and Santana called me names to _my face_? No, Quinn. The difference between you and me is that I'm not a coward!"

The slap rang through the empty bathroom and Quinn whipped her hand back so fast it was like she had touched a hot coal. Rachel was staring at her silently and her eyes filled to the brim with tears that she was clearly struggling to keep in.

"Rach, I'm so sorry." Quinn stepped forward and Rachel stepped back.

Rachel nodded her head slowly with a pained expression on her face, but Quinn knew it wasn't from the slap, "Goodbye Quinn." Rachel brushed past her and she heard the door push open and fall closed.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're 2011 Prom Queen is….Kurt Hummel…."<em> Santana looked around the stage awkwardly as the spotlight found Kurt in the crowd. It was eerily silent and everyone just kind of stood still waiting for the tension to break or boil over. When Kurt stormed out of the room, with Blaine on his heels, she turned to Dave who already held his scepter and donned the crown, her chest felt even heavier. He gave her a sympathetic smile and she walked swiftly from the stage and out the nearest set of double doors. She heard the footsteps trailing softly behind her through the hallway and didn't have to turn back to know who it was.

Entering the health room, Santana brushed away her own tears and turned to Brittany, "This is so unfair. My date won, but I still lost."

Brittany bit her lip and walked a few steps closer, "It's just a stupid, fake crown. I'll go buy you one if it's _that_ important."

She looked up at Brittany sadly and muttered her name, "Britt…it's not…this was my one chance to fit in and I needed it."

"For what San? Everyone already is afraid of you, there's no one to stand in your way," Brittany sat against the nurse's desk and watched her walk back and forth.

"Did you ever think I don't want people to be afraid of me?" She yelled and Brittany tilted her head in disbelief, "Okay, I do, but I also want their respect."

"Why?" Brittany asked her curiously.

"I just wanted them to accept me, Brittany," Santana dropped on the desk next to her, "for you."

"For me?" She clearly wasn't making the connection so Santana figured she should just spell it out.

"Winning was about being comfortable enough to show everyone who I really am and knowing no matter what was _wrong _with me, everyone would still think I was important," she slipped her hand into Brittany's, "As important as I hope I am to you."

Brittany's face lit up and she was grinning from ear to ear, "San…"

"But it wasn't really just for us, I wanted school to be safe for all of us. For people like Kurt," Santana paused, "and Dave."

"Dave?" Brittany looked confused, "Who's Dave?"

"Karofsky," Santana supplied.

"Karofsky's gay?" Brittany practically screamed and Santana slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it.

"B! You can't yell stuff like that!" She laughed, "Anyone could have heard you."

She watched Brittany think through the new information, "You're the most important person in my life Santana, but you didn't win."

Santana's face dropped, "Yeah, I'm aware of that Britt."

"No, sorry," she smiled shyly, "I meant I know why you didn't win though."

"Care to fill me in," Santana asked and laced her fingers through Brittany's.

Brittany ran her thumb over Santana's knuckles, "People knew you were hiding something. They aren't dumb. If you showed everyone who you really are, they would see you're still the same amazing person you've always been."

Santana felt her heart swell and she leaned her forehead against the side of Brittany's head, "I think you might only be half right."

"No, I know I'm both halves right," Santana saw her smile falter, "I'm not going to push anymore San. I'm leaving it up to you. I've waited twelve years for you to figure it out, I can wait a little longer for you to be comfortable."

"And what does that mean for us?" Santana asked nervously. She silently prayed this wasn't a break up.

"We're a secret," Brittany motioned zipping her lips, "But no more boys."

"I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty, that will _never_ be a problem again," Santana snickered and kissed the warm cheek near her mouth. Brittany turned her head, so Santana's nose drug across her skin and it elicited a tiny giggle from both of them, "I love you, Brittany."

Brittany's mouth ghosted over Santana's skin and she whispered, "I'm never going to get sick of hearing that," she pecked her on the lips, "I love you, too." Taking Santana's bottom lip between her own, Brittany placed both palms flat against Santana's back and pushed her tight up against her mouth. Her stomach surged at feeling the budding pressure between them and Santana fought the urgency to quicken their pace. Pulling back and resting cheek-to-cheek against the other girl, she felt Brittany smile against her skin and felt her own smirk morph into a full-fledged grin.

"Let's go back out there for Kurt," Brittany suggested and she nodded, still firmly pressed against her.

"Just one more second," she begged and closed her eyes, soaking up every ounce of the passing moment, "just one more."

* * *

><p>Quinn sat against the side of the funeral home on a shoddy wooden bench. Normally she would have grimaced at the idea of slumping down against a dirty, grimy bench, but given the circumstances, she didn't have much room to complain. She held her phone and flipped through the number distractedly, having no real reason to be holding it in the first place.<p>

"Hey Q, are you okay?" Brittany's innocent voice pierced through her sorrowful bubble and she watched her walk up and plop down next to her on the bench. "It smells back here."

Quinn gave Brittany a dismal smile and leaned against her, still not having said a word.

"What's going on Q?" She asked again and Quinn knew she couldn't hide from Brittany for long. She would force an explanation out of her at some point, but not in a bad way. That was just Brittany; overbearing in concern.

"Finn broke up with me," she mumbled with disinterest.

Brittany tried to look her in the eye, "But that's a good thing right? Now you can just be with Rachel."

Quinn shook her head, "She broke up with me too." The stinging in her chest throbbed the more she spoke. That was why she wanted to be alone, the more she talked, the more she remembered there was nothing left to say that could fix it.

"I don't understand," Brittany admitted and put an arm around her waist.

"Wanna hear the kicker?" Quinn asked with a dark smile.

"Is Kurt here?" Brittany looked around and Quinn patted her leg, bringing her attention back.

"No, B, do you want to hear what makes this mess even funnier?" She tried again.

Brittany's fingers stiffened on her hip, "I didn't think it was funny before, but sure."

Quinn shivered, "He broke up with me _for_ Rachel. His _soulmate._" She put air quotes around the last word and chuckled grimly to herself.

Brittany just scanned her face, obviously baffled at why she was laughing. Quinn couldn't think of any other way to handle the absurdity of it all. _'Better laughing than crying'_ she thought bitterly.

"C'mon Q, Santana should be around the corner and we can go to my house and watch movies and eat ice cream." Her smile seemed to brighten up the dark side street and she allowed Brittany to pull her to both feet.

"Aright, can I pick the movies?" She carelessly mumbled—she was trying her best for Brittany's sake.

Brittany thoughtfully posed, "Can I pick the ice cream?" She smirked and rewrapped an arm around Quinn's waist.

She chuckled. "Sounds like a plan," they walked to the edge of the building and sure enough Santana was waiting at the other edge of the parking lot with her car. When she saw the depressed look on Quinn's face, she closed the distance and wrapped one of her own arms around the other side of Quinn's hip so they were walking side-by-side-by-side up to Santana's car.

"Where to?" Santana chirped, trying to lighten the mood.

"My house; for ice cream and movies," Brittany added as she pulled the seat up for Quinn to climb into the back.

"If that's okay," Quinn wondered aloud and Santana grinned at her through the rear view mirror.

"Add cookies to that list and you've got yourself a deal," Santana chuckled, put her car into gear, and sped out of the parking lot.

* * *

><p><strong>an: do you know how fun it is to write sad!quinn right now? None. None at all. Oh and can you tell how much I _love_ writing Finn? I try so hard to be objective but he ends up being an ass, same with Jesse. But I like Jesse so idk where that comes from. Thanks for reading :) New chapter this weekend maybe, since I had it all planned out before I wrote this one. REVIEW if you feel like it :)  
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	31. let's do it right this time

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Nationals is putting up such a hard time with being written. So here is the first half of that. I have so much I want going on that I can't force it down into one decent sized chapter. I'll update again in a few days with the conclusion for this, but don't be worried about cliffhangers or anything, cause I won't be that cruel. This was really fun to write, especially the whole first scene. So I hope you enjoy it :)**

**katja134, gleeknumber1, Musicfutbolfan6-Thank you all so much! Glad you enjoyed it :)**

**Breakdown6-Haha I didn't take that long did I? I promise I'll try to update more since we're in the middle of a hiatus with the show. I talked out how to do fondue for two with one of my friends and I thought it'd be more interesting to see Santana's reaction to seeing Brittany's reaction (god confusing) versus just brittany's reaction. And that whole scene before it was to give everyone a false sense of security. That JBI thing bugs me! Like in the episode where he's just standing in the back with a microphone while Finn and Rachel are talking? Wth is that about? Finn will always end up being a dick, and since I'm gonna keep the finchel through season 3, you'll get regular backhanded insults towards him from me :) Thank you so much for the review, incredibly grateful as always.**

**Naya-HeYa-Achell-Di-I'm sorry! I don't want you to cry!  
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**As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! (Guys seriously stop following the story it's too much pressure ;)  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>It was early enough to still be dark outside as Santana pulled her car up to the curb outside Brittany's house. She had the top down, since the Ohio weather had taken an upturn in temperature, and her bags were piled in the backseat. Brittany was already sitting outside awaiting her arrival and she grinned when the girl leapt up from her seat and raced full speed towards the passenger door, her duffel bag thrashing behind her.<p>

Santana watched Brittany throw the puffy bag atop her own luggage and slid the dark sunglasses on her face up to rest on the top of her head, "Is that all you're bringing?"

Vaulting over the door and landing in the empty seat, Brittany smiled, "Yup." She fiddled with the radio dials frantically and Santana snickered.

"You okay, B?" She asked and tapped Brittany's seat belt holder, signalling for her to buckle it.

Latching the seat belt, Brittany's smile widened, "Yeah, I'm great. I'm just so excited!" She yelled the last word and Santana put a hand on her leg to calm her down.

"B! It's like 4 in the morning," she shushed her and replaced her sunglasses.

"But we're going to New York City San! And this time with all our friends! We can go shopping, and take touristy pictures of everything we see. Remember last time, with our moms, we went and they gave us one of those disposable cameras and we took pictures of everything!"

"And we took one of that super obese guy who yelled and chased us," she laughed remembering that particular trip. Santana hadn't thought about their trips to New York in a long time. They hadn't been there since Brittany and she were eleven or twelve. Maria and Anna used to take them there at least once a year and they would get a hotel for the weekend. One of Santana's favorite parts about the trip was that even though their moms seemed uncomfortable doing it, they would share one of the double beds so her and Brittany could do the same. _'At least now I understand why they got so weird about it,' _Santana made a promise to herself to explain to Brittany what she had learned about their parents before the trip was over.

"I miss going there all the time," Brittany said, going back to selecting an appropriate radio station.

Santana reached into the backseat and pulled her iPod from the backpack closest to the top of the pile. She handed it to Brittany and reached across her lap to open the glove compartment and pull out the aux cable so they could listen to it in the car. Brittany leaned forward and a snuck a kiss to Santana's cheek while she was stretched overtop her legs. After Santana plugged everything in, Brittany flipped through the artists and picked a playlist she had made one of the few times they had listened to music in Santana's bedroom.

"I miss it too, trust me," Santana finally started to drive away. Mr. Schuester had instructed the glee club to be at McKinley promptly at 4:30 so they could all ride the bus together to the Dayton airport which was a little over an hour away. Their flight left around 6:00am so he wanted to make sure to give them plenty of time to board the plane. Once Santana got on the main road into town, she turned to Brittany with a flashy smile, "So I was thinking we can get coffee from the Orlosky's drive-thru and then head to the school. God knows I'm gonna need something to keep me from strangling Rachel this early in the morning."

Pulling the sunglasses from Santana's face, Brittany grinned and dropped her hand onto Santana's jean-clad leg, "You called her Rachel." Santana rolled her eyes and Brittany giggled, "It's so cute when you pretend to hate her when I know you love her."

Santana scoffed, "I don't _love_ Berry," Brittany's hand was making it hard to stay focused on the road since she had started sliding fingers back and forth against her inner thigh, "I-I tolerate her."

Brittany smirked mischievously, "You don't sound very convincing," her fingers swept higher and Santana gulped, "You okay?"

Santana narrowed her eyes at her, "Aren't you so sweet and innocent."

Shrugging, Brittany pulled her hand back to a less-threatening location on her thigh, "Coffee sounds great." Brittany took a second to look forward, but instantly brought her eyes back, "Wait you haven't had coffee yet? How are you awake right now?"

"I slept really well, I guess," Santana mused. She knew that was only half the reason, since it was common knowledge between her and Brittany that she slept like a rock almost every night and still woke up groggy and irritable every day. Not that she would admit it, but she was incredibly nervous to perform at Nationals. While they still hadn't written any songs yet, _'of course,_' it was still decided that she, Brittany, and Artie would be taking the lead on the group number. The closer they were to New York, the closer she was to singing a solo in front of hundreds of people.

Brittany looked concerned, being able to read her like a book, "You sure?" One thing she loved about Brittany's new 'no pushing' philosophy was that even if she could obviously tell something was wrong, she gave Santana the option to play it off.

Taking one hand off of the steering wheel and slipping it into Brittany's, she nodded, "Yeah I'm fine."

"Okay," Brittany smiled and played with the iPod some more as they pulled into the diner's drive thru. The backside of the building was grimy and Santana kept her arm inside the car so she didn't brush it against the scummy wall.

"_Welcome to Orlosky's Dine and Drive, how may I help you," _the woman's bubbly voice poured through the speaker box as Santana searched the sign for the coffee selections.

"Yeah, hi, can I just get um," she turned to Brittany, "do you just want a regular coffee?"

Brittany bit her lip and looked at the menu, "Umm…ooo do they have cappuccinos?"

Looking back, Santana read the choices and nodded, "Yeah is that what you want?"

"Hmm, do they have espressos?" Brittany asked excitedly.

Santana turned to her with a smile, "Yes, do you want that?"

She watched Brittany deliberate like she was making a life-threatening decision, "I don't know. Wait, can I have both?"

The speaker-box voice in the back vibrated impatiently, "_Excuse me? What can I get you?"_

"Hang on a sec," Santana shouted back and looked back to Brittany, "You want two drinks?" She stared at her in confusion, "I'll buy 'em both but…"

"No can they mix them together?" Brittany bounced in her seat at her own suggestion, "That'd be super delicious."

"That sounds gross, B," she stuck out her tongue in disgust.

"_Ma'am, there are other customers," _the irate lady urged her order and Santana felt the anger boil in her chest.

"They can wait, and you sure as hell can wait," Santana scowled at the speaker, even though the lady couldn't see her.

"San, don't, she's gonna spit in our drinks," Brittany whispered.

"No I'm not apologizing cause this lady needs to get back and scrub the toilets, I'm a customer and she can wait for me to take an extra second," she read the menu again and spat at the woman, "I would like a French vanilla cappuccino and an espresso mixed together, and one black coffee."

"_Is that all?" _the lady asked.

"Yes _ma'am_," Santana taunted her and sat back against her seat proudly. She ignored the scolding looks Brittany was giving her.

"_7.84 please pull ahead,"_ the speaker cut off.

Santana rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the stout, brown-haired lady who she had just been teasing and smirked at her. When the window opened, she repeated the bill and Santana handed her a ten dollar bill she had fished out of her wallet and handed it to her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Having fun?" Brittany asked impatiently. Santana could hear how angry she was for tormenting the lady.

Without glancing over, she answered, "Not quite yet." Unbuckling her seatbelt, she put the car in park and pulled her knees up to prop herself high enough to see inside the building. She tapped the window loudly, "Hey! Excuse me!"

The woman walked back over and pressed a button to open the window, "Yeah?"

"I actually need to add another cappuccino to that order," she smiled as innocently as she could manage, "Sorry, it must have slipped my mind."

"Vanilla?" the brunette server asked briskly.

She nodded and fell back into her seat, "Yup, that works."

The woman forcibly smiled, "Coming right up," and turned her back again.

"Who's that for?" Brittany asked curiously, all of her irritation gone.

She forgot she hadn't mentioned they had to pick up Quinn."I just remembered Quinn wanted me to get her," Santana checked her phone, "I'm surprised she hasn't bombarded me with texts by now." She chuckled, "That would've been funny."

"What?" Brittany mumbled.

"If we forgot her."

"Like _Home Alone_," Brittany grinned, "I love that movie."

Santana smiled back, "Except somebody would've remembered before we got on the plane."

"Like Rachel," Brittany mentioned sadly, "I hope she would've realized at least."

"She would have," Santana agreed with a tiny smile. _'Maybe'_ she wondered. From how Quinn had described it to them, and including the slap, it seemed like Rachel probably wouldn't want much to do with her; for a while at least. Santana understood where Quinn had been coming from, if there was anyone to understand her reservations about coming out, it surely would have been her. But she had watched her friend sabotage her relationship at every turn, adding boyfriend upon boyfriend to complicate things even further. Berry had every reason to do what she did, and even Quinn was starting to realize that.

"_I love her," Quinn admitted stretched out on the hood of Santana's car the night before. They had been laying there for a few hours after having dinner at Brittany's house. She had offered to drive them home and Quinn agreed, until they got in the car and she asked if they could hang out for a little while longer._

"_Do you?" Santana asked her. She didn't want to imply Quinn didn't, but wanted her friend to truly evaluate her feelings for Rachel. "Or better does she know you do?" _

"_No, I mean," Quinn sighed, "I never told her. I just guessed she knew. How could she not?" _

"_Q, don't take this the wrong way, but you kinda did everything to prove you didn't love her," Santana offered and endured the glare she got for that comment._

"_What do you know about it, Santana? You have Brittany and she's loved you and only you since the moment you two met each other. It's not as easy for me. Rachel has Finn, and probably always will love him. You never forget your first love." _

"_If that's true, then Brittany will always have to compete with Justin Timberlake," Santana teased and Quinn smacked her, "Ow, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it, that man is gorgeous."_

_Quinn hit her again, "Stop it, that's not even funny." _

_Santana pinched her side, "Then why are you laughing Fabray." _

"_Cause you're ridiculous, Lance was clearly the hottest," Quinn chuckled._

"_Gross! Frosted hair, baby face, not to mention he ended up being gay," Santana muttered._

"_Considering our situation, I don't think that last one should matter all that much," Quinn took a deep breath and shut her eyes._

_Santana turned on her side, arm smashed against the glass window and said, "I've seen you two together and trust me Quinn, she loves you. And I've also seen how she acts dating your mutual mistake, and she definitely loves him too. But the way she looks at you, and hangs on your every word, is nothin compared to how she is with him. You're having a rough patch, but you'll get through it." _

"_I just need to find a way to get her back, and to show her I'm not scared to be with her. Finn's out of my life, Jesse is gone, and we're going to one of the most liberal cities in America. It shouldn't be that hard."_

"_And you'll have my support and most likely Brittany's," Santana added, "We'll help you fix this."_

_Quinn smiled for the first time that night and slid off of the car, "I'll hold you to that."_

"Here you go," the woman handed a cardboard carrier out of the window with all three coffees and Santana took it from her hurriedly.

"Thanks a bunch," when the lady tried to hand her the change, three pennies, she declined with a wave of her hand, "No you keep it. Think of it as a tip."

Stepping on the pedal, she sped out of the parking lot and doubled back in the opposite direction of the school towards Quinn's house. The sun had started to peak over the horizon and cast minimal sunlight across the hood of Santana's car. The reflection caught her eyes and she reached back for the sunglasses Brittany removed from her face and readjusted them over her face. She looked over and saw Brittany squinting.

"Here," she reached between them and opened the console, pulling a pair of brown aviators out and handing them to her.

"Thanks," Brittany smiled and put them on. When they reached the suburb, she reached over and grabbed her drink out of the carrier. She sipped greedily and smiled in delight. Santana watched the whole demonstration.

"Good?" she asked with a laugh.

"I burnt my tongue," Brittany confessed and hung her tongue out of her mouth trying to relieve the burn.

"But you were smiling," Santana declared curiously.

"You were watching me," Brittany turned away and Santana thought she saw her cheeks turn pink.

"And?" she asked.

"I didn't want you to think I hated it." Santana grinned and slipped her hand into Brittany's empty one, lacing their fingers together.

"You're adorable," she whispered and Brittany's face lit up. The red tint was still in her cheeks, so Santana knew she had been blushing before.

They drove down the street and saw Quinn in her front yard pacing back and forth. Santana saw she didn't look mad, but more upset than anything else. Turning into her driveway, Santana shut the car off and dropped Brittany's hand to get out.

"You alright?" She yelled to Quinn, who stormed up to the car.

"Where were you?" Quinn demanded and dropped her suitcase with a thud against the cement ground.

"Sorry," Santana leaned over her door and clicked the button to pop her trunk open, "We went to get coffee for us all and it took longer than I thought it would. The lady was a total bitch." She moved a few of her bags, and Brittany's, out of the backseat and piled them into the empty trunk, freeing room for Quinn to sit.

"You couldn't, I don't know, send me a text saying that," Quinn said, following Santana's lead and dropping her own bags into the trunk.

Santana stopped what she was doing and glared, "_You couldn't, I don't know, _sent me a text asking where we were?"

"You're the driver, that's your responsibility," Quinn argued.

"Yeah, I'm the driver, that means you don't gets to boss me around," Santana slammed her trunk and walked towards the front door.

"We got you coffee!" Brittany said, trying to break the tension and calm them down. "Hop in," she instructed Quinn.

Santana knew Quinn couldn't resist Brittany and had to smirk when she smiled and nodded, "My mom would kill me if she saw me get into a car this way." She hopped over into the backseat and laughed.

Twisting the key until the engine roared to life, Santana backed out of the driveway, "Any reason why you're a bigger bitch than usual this morning?"

Quinn frowned, "How can you ask a considerate question and still be such a bitch at the same time?"

Santana smirked, "It's a gift." Brittany's pleasant laughter filled her ears and it made Santana's smirk adjust into a smile.

"Rachel texted me this morning," their laughter ceased and Brittany twisted in the seat to take in Quinn's appearance.

"About what?" she asked thoughtfully.

"She left something at my house," Quinn shut her eyes and shook her head, "A jacket or something and she wanted me to bring it with me."

"Oh," Santana said sadly, wishing it was more hopeful news, "Did you get it?" The question was stupid but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah," Quinn glanced at Brittany, "would you mind giving it to her. I don't think I'm up for that just yet."

Brittany gave her a comforting smile that even eased a little of Santana's worry, "Sure. Just give it to me before we get there." Her eyes lit up and she grabbed Quinn's drink, "Oh, here. This is for you."

"Thanks, for," she paused, "both things."

Brittany nodded and turned back around in her seat, staring out the front of the car. The music shifted into a sad melody and Santana was quick to pull the iPod from the cupholder and change the song. She found a heavy rock song and settled into driving towards the school. A few minutes later, when they were sitting at a stoplight in the middle of Lima, Brittany tried to take her hand back but Santana shrugged her off. Brittany looked incredibly surprised at the rejection but when she flitted her eyes back in Quinn's direction, she realized that Santana hadn't wanted to flaunt anything in front of the girl who was still in obvious pain from her breakup.

The light turned green and they drove away in comfortable silence.

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><p>The airplane wasn't really what Brittany had expected. She expected the huge cabin of people she remembered from her previous trips to New York, but instead saw they were held up in a tiny, one aisle jet that had one bathroom at the far back. It meant they were all going to squished on top of each other, and if the seats weren't in sets of four she wouldn't have minded.<p>

Quinn opted for the window seat, and had spent most of the time staring listlessly out of the tiny window. Brittany had wanted to sit on the outside, but Puck had insisted on sitting there so he could talk to Mike, Sam, and Finn who were in the last seats of their own rows. Santana was next to Quinn, and the two had spent a good amount of the time talking through her 'plan', _'whatever that is,'_ and that put Brittany between her and Puck.

The trip had been incredibly boring so far in her opinion, and she tried to sleep a few times, resting against Puck's arm. While it earned her a few dirty looks from Santana, when she had tried leaning against her, Santana had swung her arms too much when she talked to remain comfortable for a long enough time for Brittany to fall asleep. Puck gave her a few confused glances, but he remained still enough be a good pillow.

After waking up from a tiny nap, she opened her eyes and saw most of their friends had nodded off as well. The blanket spread across her body was a new addition, and she wondered who had put it there. Puck's breathing was shallow and Quinn seemed dead with her head resting against the window. After blinking her eyes a few more times, she saw Santana was very much awake and watching her with an adoring smile.

"What're you doing?" Brittany whispered, keeping her voice as low as she could.

Santana looked around them before whispering back, "Watching you sleep."

"You do that a lot," Brittany added. She was happy there was still enough noise to cover how fast her heart was pounding when Santana admitted that in front of their friends. _'Even if they are asleep.'_

"How do you know? You're usually sleeping," Santana teased.

"_Usually,_" Brittany remarked, "Sometimes I'm awake."

"That's rude," Santana pouted, "you're not supposed to know." Her cheeks reddened and Brittany smiled.

"I like it," she pulled her blanket down and snatched Santana's hand off of the armrest and put it in her lap, "Especially when you sing."

Her face got even redder, "You've heard that?" Brittany nodded. "That's really not fair."

"But I love it," she played with Santana's fingers, "It's really beautiful."

"You hear me sing all the time though, B," Santana insisted, "It's nothing new."

"Not like that. When you sing like that, it's just for me. It's special." Santana had an amazing voice; Brittany knew that way before they had joined glee club. She loved it when Mr. Schue gave solos to Santana, even more than when she got a solo herself. But there was a huge difference between the songs she sang in public, and the songs she sang to Brittany.

"You're special, and you deserve them," Santana whispered and leaned her head against Brittany's shoulder. She nuzzled down into the adorable mess of Santana's hair.

"Are you worried about Nationals?" Brittany asked bluntly.

Santana squeezed Brittany's fingers back, "A little bit." Brittany hummed. "Okay, a lot. I'm really nervous."

"Why?" She asked. It didn't make sense, Santana wasn't ever nervous about anything. They performed all the time for the Cheerio's.

"I'm just," she paused, "It's a big deal for me. This isn't cheerleading where we all do the same thing and follow each other. I have to sing, _we_ have to sing, and whether or not we win is on our shoulders. I don't know how to handle that."

"You're an amazing singer though," Brittany argued. It was weird to hear her so stressed out.

"Yeah, I know, I'm hot shit with a microphone," Brittany snickered, "but I've never had everyone else's dreams on my shoulders. It's just a lot of pressure."

"We'll be Fine, S," Brittany brushed some hair out of her face, "you'll be perfect, and I'll make sure we have kick-ass choreography. It'll be great. You just need to find a way to relax before then."Santana kissed her shoulder and mumbled something against her arm, "What?"

Santana lifted her head and brushed her nose against Brittany's ear, "I can think of a way."

Brittany's stomach knotted and she looked around nervously, making sure everyone was still asleep. She looked back at Santana who had a seductive glint in her drowsy eyes, "Oh really?"

Santana nodded and she pushed her hand, that was still in Brittany's lap, against the fabric of her sweatpants. Brittany's eyes shot open and she whispered in a hushed voice, "We can't really do this here."

Santana pouted, "Why not? Everyone's asleep." Brittany felt her insistent fingers slip under the waistband of her pants and trail further down.

Her throat thickened and she gulped, "Someone could wake up."

Santana's hand stopped, "Do you really not want to do this?"

'_No, no, god no, I want it,'_ her heart was pounding relentlessly and she knew there was no way Santana couldn't hear it now. She looked around and spotted the bathroom.

"Wait," she shook her head trying to clear away some of the arousal, "I have an idea."

Santana's hand dipped lower, "Love to hear it."

"Go to the bathroom," Brittany ordered and pulled Santana's hand out of her pants. She watched her friend stare at her, with eyes squinted in confusion.

"I don't really have to pee, Britt."

"No," she laughed and leaned in, "go to the bathroom. I'll follow you in a minute."

"Oh," Santana said dumbly and then it hit her, "Oh!"

"Yeah," Brittany whispered and pushed her shoulder, "Go."

Santana stood up and put her back to the seats in front of them. She slid in front of Brittany and her knees brushed against Brittany's softly, and they smiled at each other. Brittany put her hand up and ran it down the length of Santana's leg as she passed.

When Santana got in front of Puck, they were both surprised to find his eyes open and leering at the two of them, "Think that bathroom is big enough for three?"

Brittany's eyes widened and they quickly shot up to see how Santana was going to react. Expecting to see fear and surprise, Santana instead looked pissed off and smirked.

"Very funny, but I don't think you'll be much use," she remarked and dropped a knee into his crotch heavily.

He whimpered painfully and doubled over in his seat. Brittany put her hand up to silence a laugh and shook her head at them.

"Make another joke about me and Britt, and I'll castrate you, got it? Same goes for telling anyone about what just happened," she commanded.

In an exhausted but persistent voice he mumbled, "Don't you mean what's about to happen?"

Santana smacked his head again and he yelped, "It wasn't a joke Puckerman."

"Alright, I was just kidding," they both were still surprisingly using hushed voices and Brittany didn't think anybody would or could hear anything that was being said.

Puck went on, "You think I don't know what goes on between you two? We've had threesomes if you remember, and I was always on the outside looking in. Shit's messed up."

Brittany grimaced, thinking about when they used to mess around with Puck. It had only happened a few times, and if the other girl hadn't been Santana, there was no way she would have gone through with it.

Santana turned to Brittany and grumbled, "See you in a few?"

She nodded and Santana smiled and winked before leaving the row completely and walking towards the back of the plane.

"Why does she hit me? I wasn't being a dick," Puck complained and readjusted himself on the seat, "Especially in the nuts. That's not cool, I need those."

"Maybe if you stopped being such a jerk, she'd leave you alone," Brittany suggested and he scoffed.

"She just doesn't get that I'm messing with her. I'm totally cool with you two being into each other, it just means all of my fantasies have actually happened," Puck admitted.

Brittany frowned, "See that makes even me want to hit you."

Puck threw his hands up in defense, "I mean it though. I liked Santana when we were together, even if she won't ever believe it. But I could tell she wasn't happy with me. If you remember I was the one who suggested we all hook up, and it was my own little experiment."

"I don't understand," Brittany said.

"I had my suspicions and turns out they were true," he said and laid his head back against the chair, "You being there made her a hundred times more turned on then I could ever hope to achieve."

"So if you knew, why did you wait for her to break up with you?" Brittany asked, recalling Santana had broken it off with him officially during their sophomore year.

"She was hot and willing," Puck admitted and Brittany frowned again.

"Okay, I think it's been a long enough minute," Brittany stood up and crossed over in front of his legs. Puck had a way of being an incredibly nice guy and then saying something stupid and repulsive. She liked him, and it was nice to know that they already had a supporter, even if he was going about it in a very sleazy way.

When she reached the back of the plane, the red 'occupied' logo forced her to knock before going in. The door folded open and Santana eagerly pulled her into the tiny room.

"That took long enough," Santana muttered and grabbed her waist, forcing their bodies together.

"Talked to Puck," Brittany leaned her head to the side and created more room for Santana to attach lips to her throat. The sensation was driving her wild and she twisted them so she could lean against the sink.

Kissing down the column of Brittany's neck, Santana whispered, "Screw him."

"He seemed really cool about us," she admitted and threaded her hands through Santana's dark hair.

Santana pulled her mouth away and kissed Brittany hard on the lips. Their mouths overlapped and Brittany sucked on Santana's bottom lip. It was slow and Brittany enjoyed the relaxed pace; it was enough just to feel them together for the moment. Something about Santana's kiss seemed needy and she figured it had to do with being caught. One of Santana's hands skirted up her back and kneaded the muscles gently. She arched into the touch and pressed tight against Santana's chest.

She pulled back and Santana whispered across her lips, "That's because he's a pervert."

"Still thinking about Puck?" Brittany shot back with a devilish smirk and brushed her tongue against Santana's bottom lip.

"God no," Santana husked and crashed them together again, this time slipping her tongue past Brittany's parted lips. Brittany moaned into the kiss and slid her hands from Santana's hair to her cheeks, fixing their mouths together firmly. Both of Santana's hands drifted down into the back of her pants and squeezed her ass roughly. Her hips bucked forward and Santana whimpered in response.

Brittany broke their lips apart, "We need to hurry." She flipped their positions and pushed Santana roughly against the counter. She reached down and grabbed her behind the knees and forced her to sit up on the sink. When her butt came down, it hit the faucet and it sprayed water across Santana's pants. They both laughed and Brittany kissed her again. She wasn't really sure how much longer they had until they landed, so taking care of Santana was all they were going to have time for. Reaching down, Brittany undid the button on Santana's jeans and pulled her zipper down furiously.

"Wait," Santana stopped her hand.

"What?" Brittany asked and looked up into her turbulent eyes. Last time she checked, her pupils were blown with desire, but now they looked a little frightened.

"I don't want this to be just sex anymore," Santana admitted worriedly. Her voice was trembling and Brittany wanted to cry at how vulnerable she looked. "I need you to know that this time it means something, okay? And I love you."

Brittany smiled so big, she thought her face was going to break, "I love you, too." She leaned down and kissed Santana briefly on the lips before resuming her hand. When the jeans were tugged down and out of the way, she slipped one hand into Santana's panties.

* * *

><p>Santana walked on wobbly legs back down the single aisle way to her row of seats and noticed everyone was awake and chatting noisily. When she reached her row she saw Brittany had taken her chair and was discussing their show dresses with Quinn who seemed mildly interested. Puck looked up at her with a smirk and mumbled, "Have fun?"<p>

Santana grinned and dropped her knee again, just enough for him to cower, before crossing in front of his knees and taking Brittany's now open seat, "Yeah I did, thank you for asking."

Puck leaned over, to keep his voice down, "Glad to hear it. If you guys ever plan on making a sex tape or something, give the old Puckasaurus a call, I'd be happy to help."

"I'll keep that in mind," Santana winked and his eyes widened, "In your dreams perv." He looked hurt and turned back to his conversation with Mike.

Santana twisted in the seat so she was facing Brittany and Quinn who were still deep in conversation. She leaned forward and placed her chin on Brittany's shoulder and rested her fingers against Brittany's side. Brittany's breathe shuddered and she grinned in satisfaction. Her own hand was soon covered by Brittany's and she closed her eyes, content to stay that way for the rest of the trip.

She was definitely relaxed.

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><p><strong>AN:** **hope you guys remembered my note about not getting smut out of me ;) hope you liked it :) I personally loved how this chapter turned out. More New York/Nationals in the next chapter! Thank you for reading and please review! :)**


	32. our little town blues are melting away

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I've been working on this since sunday afternoon, longest chapter yet, and probably my favorite so far. The reviews you guys left were absolutely amazing. Like honestly, they made me so happy. I'm really tired right now, so if you read this before I check back in the morning, I'm going to go back and leave you all messages at the beginning here like I usually do. I would do it right now, but honestly I'm too tired haha. So here's the conclusion to New York. I worked really, really hard on this and I feel like it payed off tremendously. I think you're all gonna like it. Like I promised Breakdown6 last night, it's going to slay you with fluff :)**

**Kendojin-I was on a roll this weekend lol when I don't post for a while I try to make up for it by posting multiple chapters. I'm glad you liked it, and I hope I delivered with this one!**

**Minerva McBadass- Well thank you very much, I appreciate that :)**

**tuckp3- Your review made me blush haha I'm glad people are enjoying Anna and Maria and I'm really happy I stuck with that idea. It's very entertaining to write and I think it adds a whole different dynamic to the story. Thank you!**

**Lanter- Haha, I wasn't sure if I wanted to write it, but I haven't given them any sexytimes lately so, it's about time ;)**

**Breakdown6- You don't want me to write smut, I'm pretty sure I would butcher the hell out of it. A lot of their conversations have been in private lately so there aren't a lot of opportunities to see bitchy-Santana so I grabbed ahold of that chance when I saw it haha seriously hope you liked this chapter :) I didn't hold back on any of the cutesy moments. Looking forward to your review :)**

**groovie-cat- Thank you, I'm trying to give Puck some retribution for being an ass, but its funny to make him a scumbag. I have a scene in mind for maybe the next chapter that has a little bit more smutty action;) (we'll see if it turns out okay)**

**Naya-HeYa-Achell-Di- They're getting a happy ending, I promise! I already have it planned out, just not quite yet:) **

**gleeknumber1- Thanks! :)**

**jace5238- They still have alone time to be fluffy! This chapter proves that :D Thank you!  
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**Thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! It's amazing that I'm still getting follows, thanks so much :)  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"What do you want to do?" Santana brushed out Brittany's hair on the double bed they were sharing, while Quinn searched through the drawers for the room service menu.<p>

"I don't know yet," Quinn admitted and dug up a yellow, faded piece of paper from the top drawer, "Is there any way for you to get everyone out of the room this afternoon?"

They were alone, everyone was downstairs checking out the lobby, so Santana, Brittany and Quinn took the opportunity to discuss a plan for Quinn to get Rachel back.

"I mean, probably. But are you sure you want to stay here? You could sneak out, it's not like Schue's gonna stop you. Whoever trusted him with a bunch of teenagers is an idiot," Santana laughed and set the brush down on the floral print comforter. Brittany was sitting on the floor in front of her and leaned back against her legs.

"She might like going out," Brittany suggested, twirling her hair between two fingers, "or _coming_ out…"

"Brittany!" Santana scolded and chuckled. Quinn smiled a little and dropped onto the bed next to them.

"I'll order room service, and I already checked and they have _Driving Miss Daisy_ on pay-per-view, and we'll just have a nice dinner and talk. Without any distractions," Quinn was talking her way in circles and Santana could tell how nervous she was.

She put a hand on Quinn's shoulder and smiled, "Sounds classic and perfect. Something a sap like Berry would love." The tips of Quinn's ears turned red and she picked the menu back up.

"Except all she's getting is a salad," she shook the paper, "not much of a vegan selection on here."

Brittany bounced on her butt, "Oh! We can go out and get you something good," she turned to Santana, "Remember that Italian place? With like, all of the gross noodles with names we couldn't pronounce? And your mom got mad when I spit it out over the table."

"_Ai Fiori_," Santana grinned, "Such good pork." She licked her lips remembering how delicious that meal was. Only her mom would insist on taking two eight year olds to a fancy restaurant full of socialites and business executives. Brittany practically starved herself and they had to sneak into the hotel kitchen to snag food she found edible.

"_Sani, were gonna get caught!" Brittany squealed, latched tight onto Santana's hand and following her through the dark restaurant. There was only one light on in the kitchen so Santana figured there couldn't have been anyone in there._

"_We're paying to stay here, that means we're paying for the food too. So it's practically begging to be taken, plus you needs to get your grub on. I could hear your stomach grumble the whole time we were at dinner," Santana stood on her tippy toes to peer into the dark room and scouted to make sure they were alone._

"_That food was gross," Brittany stuck out her tongue in disgust and tried to tug Santana back, "C'mon your mom already yelled at me once today. I don't want her to do it again." She shuddered, "She's scary."_

_Santana pushed the door open quietly and pulled Brittany through into the dark room. The shiny metal cabinets, counters and appliances reflected the one light in the far back corner; a single bulb hanging from a chain. Walking through the kitchen as softly as they could, Brittany and Santana searched for the refrigerator. _

_As they walked past the different stations, Brittany ran her finger along the cool steel and whispered, "If we get caught I'm telling them you forced me. And I was sleep-walking." _

_Santana snickered lightly, "Okay B, whatever you say."_

"_And sleep-eating," Brittany amended as Santana tugged hard on the sleek handle of the refrigerator. If Brittany's stomach wasn't growling before, it definitely was then. _

_Every shelf was stocked high with every fruit and vegetable imaginable. A plastic carton of raspberries and strawberries stuck out in Brittany's eye and she grabbed them quickly off the top shelf. Santana pushed the produce containers aside and searched for any meat she could find._

"_Was it too much to ask for a nice juicy steak?" She grumbled and slammed the door shut a little too loudly. Brittany already had the top of the carton popped off and she was chomping down on strawberry after strawberry, the sticky-red juice's running down her face carelessly. _

_When the door shut, she jumped and shushed Santana, "Be quiet!" _

_Santana scowled and moved over to the next fridge, pulling the door open as silently as she could. Her eyes widened when she was met with a ton of Tupperware container filled with burgers, hotdogs, and chicken breasts. Some of them had notes on the top with various names, so Santana assumed they were lunches the workers had left behind. She grabbed a purple container that housed a seasoned chicken breast and looked around the room for a microwave. With her sights set on one at the end of the room, she started to walk towards it when the door they had come in, cracked open. Her heart pounded in her chest and she dropped to the floor. Brittany had done the same and was crawling over towards her on all fours, with her carton under one arm._

"_What do we do?" Brittany whispered in a hushed voice. Santana's terrified eyes were wide as she searched for a way out of the room. _

_The person's heavy footsteps thudded against the ground and Santana grabbed Brittany's arm roughly, pulling her towards the exit. She caught sight of the man at the far end of the room, flipping through a clipboard full of papers on the wall. His navy uniform made him blend into the darkness and Santana couldn't make out his face as they hurried through the door. _

_They ran through the restaurant and rounded the lobby corner, towards the elevator bank. Before pressing the button, Santana remembered Brittany's mom denying Brittany the opportunity to push it, so she hesitated and pointed towards it. Taking the cue, Brittany slapped the button eagerly and the metal door slid open. They stormed into the tiny room and once again, Santana allowed Brittany to select their floor. When the doors closed, they both slid down the back wall of the elevator to the floor._

_Both panting in heavy, strained breaths, Brittany was the first to mumble, "Told you we'd get caught."_

_Santana looked at her in disbelief and laughed, "We didn't get caught."_

"_Almost," Brittany opened the container of fruit again and Santana flipped off the lid to her chicken. For the rest of the night they rode the elevator up and down until they were both full, sharing their finds from the kitchen._

"That sounds perfect," Quinn grinned blissfully and then she backtracked, "I mean if that's okay? You don't have to do anything for me."

Santana and Brittany exchanged content smiles, both lost in their memory, and shook their heads at Quinn. Brittany ran her fingers through Quinn's bangs, "We'll do it."

* * *

><p>The sun beat down on Santana's head as they traipsed through the familiar streets of New York City. They had just dropped off the promised food to Quinn and after wishing her luck with the evening, she and Brittany had set out to explore. Santana scratched her head, irritated from the heat and groaned so loud it caught Brittany's attention.<p>

"You okay?" Brittany glanced at her sideways.

On the crowded sidewalk, Santana took in Brittany's appearance. Her glistening blue eyes reflected the sunlight pouring through the slots of empty space between the towering buildings. Wavy, blonde hair was half up and clipped back off of her forehead. The smile that had cemented itself on landing in LaGuardia hadn't left her face one moment they were there. Seeing Brittany against the back drop of 5th street just made sense in Santana's mind, and she knew this is where they would end up. She imagined walking hand-in-hand with Brittany through the bustling streets and having no one give them so much as a second look. The moment was made even more complete when, as if reading her mind, Brittany switched the bottle in her left hand to her right and left it empty for Santana to take if she wanted to. Without a second thought, or an anxious survey of their surroundings, she grabbed her hand and slipped her fingers in between Brittany's long, slender digits, swimming through the peaceful twinge in the pit of her stomach. When Brittany smiled, it felt like her heart exploded and all she could do to relieve the pressure was squeeze Brittany's fingers tighter.

"I'm perfect," she pulled Brittany's hand to her mouth and kissed her thumb.

"So where are we off to?" Brittany asked eagerly, swinging their intertwined hands between their thighs.

"I actually got us a reservation," Santana admitted shyly.

"When? This morning?" Brittany asked seriously, they hadn't been apart long enough for Santana to have made any kind of call.

Santana shrugged, "I might've called…I don't know…two weeks ago." Brittany laughed at the coy smile on her face.

"I did think it was kind of weird you told me to change out of my sweats to go get Quinn's food…" Brittany admitted and hid her face behind their clasped hands. "I'm so dumb," she chuckled out behind her embarrassment.

"You're not dumb," Santana said and stopped them from walking down the street. "Look at me," she took both of Brittany's hands, "you're amazing, and considerate, and beautiful and anyone who thinks anything different can go to hell."

Brittany stepped towards her and bent down, pressing her lips to Santana's softly. Their hands remained at their sides and they stood awkwardly, trying to meld into each other without breaking the tenderness of the moment. When someone brushed by Santana's back, she pulled away and cleared her throat. Brittany was still hovering with her eyes closed and Santana grinned, leaning up to peck her soft lips again. The corners of Brittany's lips turned up and she snapped her eyes open, and released one of Santana's hands. They started walking again and Santana had a little more enthusiasm than she did before.

Xx

"Yeah, hi, I have a reservation," Santana addressed the hostess who gave her the kindest smile she'd ever received from a server.

"And what is the name," the red-headed older lady smiled and took out a pen to trail down the book in front of her.

"Uhm, Lopez," she said awkwardly. Santana had watched her mother stroll into restaurants of all kinds and strut around like she owned the place. And while she admired that confidence, and modeled a lot of herself around it, it still felt weird to be there, holding Brittany's hand firmly in her own, and request a table for the two of them.

Smiling, the hostess looked up from the podium and squinted, "You look very familiar." She leaned around Santana and said to Brittany, "You too. Have you two ever been here before?"

"Nope," Santana grumbled, hating being put on the spot.

Brittany chimed in, "We don't even live here."

"I just have an uncanny feeling I've seen you two before," the woman laughed, "but that was a long time ago. You're only babies." She winked, "And look at me, I'm just some old badger who's probably creeping out two customers. Sorry," she gestured behind her, "this way."

She led them into the middle of the restaurant and gave them the option of where to sit. Brittany looked out past the windows onto the deck and tugged on Santana's arm, "Can we go out there?"

She had whispered it but the lady still overheard her, "Of course you can." She smiled and brought them out onto the patio and laid menu's down on top of the table covered in a white vinyl cloth. It was just starting to get dark outside, and the sun was still low in the distant sky. Their table sat against the railing overlooking the water, and Brittany and Santana lowered themselves into the wicker chairs on either side.

"Now, what can I start you off with to drink?" The woman asked, pulling a pad of paper and a pencil out of her smock.

Santana cut Brittany off and spoke up, "Two waters, hers with lemon, mine with only a little ice."

"Alright, well take some time to look over the menu and I'll be back in a flash," she winked and left them alone.

They were the only ones outside and a low hum of music played through the woods of Central Park. Brittany picked up her menu first—Santana had simply stared, following her every movement—and gasped at the prices.

"Oh my god, San, this stuff is way too expensive," she said uncertainly. Looking up she saw Santana shrug and finally start to flip through her own menu.

"You're worth it," she mumbled quietly and her cheeks burned red.

Brittany loved the charming blush, "Why are you whispering? No one's out here. And even if they were," she reached across the table and stopped Santana's fingers from drumming noisily against the silken material, "they wouldn't care."

Santana looked happier than Brittany could ever remember, "But you can hear me."

"And?" Brittany asked casually.

Santana swallowed heavily, "Do you see where we are?"

"New York?" Brittany wondered. The question seemed a little too obvious so she knew her answer had to be wrong.

"More specific," Santana provided.

"In a park?" Brittany tried again and grinned at the playfulness.

"Warmer," she smiled and pressed the knuckle of her middle finger against the curve of Brittany's pointer finger.

"Help me?" Brittany looked distraught but was still enjoying herself.

"We're on a date."

The realization hit Brittany harder than she thought possible and she wondered how so much time could have passed until she realized what it was, a date. Santana had asked her out to a restaurant that she had made reservations for weeks ago, and had even started off by ordering for her.

"A date," Brittany said finally and sat back in her chair, ripping their hands apart.

"Are you okay," Santana asked worriedly. Brittany didn't seem as pleased as she should have been.

"We've been walking around for the last two weeks, and you knew this was going to happen, and you didn't tell me?"

Santana stuttered, "I thought it-it would be a surprise. Are you mad?"

"Santana, I could have gotten all done up, and looked especially pretty if I knew we were going out," Brittany's lip curved up, "on a date." She looked so proud saying the last word.

Straining forward across the table without lifting out of her seat, Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and re-tangled their fingers together loosely, "You do look pretty," she paused heavily, "You look gorgeous."

"I look like a streetwalker," Brittany said hurriedly and Santana laughed.

"I don't think that means what you think it means," she offered and made her face serious again, "Britt, I don't need you to worry about what you look like. As far as I'm concerned, you look smokin' in just about anything. I don't care what you're wearing; I just want you to be here with me." She chuckled, "You could be naked and I don't think I'd have a problem with it."

"I think you'd prefer it if I were naked," Brittany added and Santana cockily shrugged.

"I'm serious, B." Santana locked their gaze, trying to pour every ounce of her sincerity into Brittany's mind. Every word was genuine and she wanted Brittany to know it.

"Alright," Brittany grinned, "I guess I forgive you. But next time, I need at least," she looked up thoughtfully, "two days warning before our next date."

"Deal," Santana was delighted at the idea of having another date with Brittany; and many after that. Feeling Brittany's hand in hers made her chest constrict excitedly. She would want to rip her own heart out, if the sensation wasn't so deliciously perfect.

"I think I figured out why you two look so familiar," the woman poured out of the opening in the back of the restaurant and hurried towards them with a picture in one hand. She handed it to Brittany first and continued to talk, "We don't do it anymore since the new owners took over, but awhile back we used to take pictures of our wedding parties and hang them up on the wall," she turned to Santana, "so if they ever came back they could 'relieve the memories!' That's what old Charlie used to say," the woman turned to Brittany, "he was the old owner."

Brittany stood up from her chair and walked over behind Santana so they could look at the picture together, "S, you have to see this."

"I honestly thought it was you two cuties, but given the date on the back I figure it must be a relative or something. The resemblance is scary," the woman left them at the table and walked back into the building. "I'll be right back out with your drinks,' she yelled over her shoulder.

The picture, a little crinkled like it had been crammed in a desk somewhere, was of a wedding banquet. Santana recognized the interior of the boathouse they had walked through earlier and could make out where the changes had been made since the photo had been taken. Three tables were lined up, one at the head of the room where a brunette woman in a flowing white gown sat on a blonde haired gentleman's lap. He looked a little familiar to Brittany but she couldn't quite place his face. The two other tables were on either end of the head table and ran perpendicular down the picture. Everyone seemed joyous and was rowdily celebrating what must have been this couple's wedding day.

Santana stared hard at the blonde man and could see the distinguishably striking features that were very alike to the girl hovering over her shoulder. Her mind flashed through images she had seen in Brittany's house, "B, is this your uncle?"

Brittany hummed, "Umm, maybe. It kinda looks like him doesn't it? But I don't think that's what we're supposed to be looking at."

"Why?" Santana asked as Brittany reached an arm around her head and pointed to the bottom corner of the picture.

It could have been them, that fact alone shocked Santana. But when she took a more examining look, she noticed the brunette's eyes were not dark brown, like her own, but a deep shade of green. The color of her mother's eyes. And the blonde, attached to her hip, lips brazen on Maria's neck in the heat of what looked like a passionate kiss, was without a doubt, Anna Pierce.

"S, why is my mom sucking on your mom's neck?" Brittany asked nervously, she heard her own voice tremor and wondered why Santana hadn't started a stream of curse words like she had expected.

Santana sighed and titled her head back to look Brittany in the eyes, "I need to tell you something."

"About what? Why aren't you shocked at this? Did you know? Did everyone know and I didn't?" Brittany was panicking and Santana grabbed her wrist and pulled Brittany down onto her lap.

"Calm down, it's not that big of a deal," Santana tried to soothe her but it was understandable for her to have been freaking out.

"_Not a big deal?_ Santana, please tell me what's going on," Brittany pleaded and tried to sit up against the arm of the chair.

"A couple months ago," she started and Brittany's eyes grew in anticipation, "my aunt told me something about our moms."

"Carmen?" Brittany asked, trying to hold onto some type of reality.

"Yeah, it was a day I skipped school. And she was trying to calm me down," Santana was unsure of bringing up that day, "about-about something that happened and she ended up spilling her guts about it."

Brittany fidgeted impatiently, "Just tell me, okay?"

"My mom and your mom were like, together. Like us, sort of."

Her confusion doubled, "Like us?"

"Not exactly, well actually I don't know. I'm not sure of all the details," Santana admitted and felt Brittany' breathing spike again.

"S, our parents can't be together, what about our dads?" She looked heartbroken, "Wait did they cheat on our dads?"

"No-no-no, Britt. This all happened before they met them," Santana tried to explain, "When they were young and I guess until they were nineteen or something."

"Nineteen?" Brittany asked urgently. "San, my mom met my dad when they were twelve. She always told me it was love at first sight," she started to tear up.

"From what I heard, on your dad's part, it was," Santana smiled sympathetically. Brittany seemed so hurt and she couldn't think of any way to make it better.

"This just doesn't make sense, our parents are straight. Isn't being here kind of proof of that fact?" Brittany asked and couldn't help a tiny chuckle.

"B, I don't know the whole story. I only heard parts. If we want to know, we'll have to ask them."

Brittany seemed reluctant to the idea instantly, "This is too weird. What if it's a mistake? Could you imagine having that conversation with my mom, with _your _mom?"

Santana stroked Brittany's cheek with one finger, "I'm just as confused as you. Whatever you want to do about it, I'm fine with okay? Just let me know."

Brittany bent forward and pecked her cheek softly, lingering, "Thank you."

"Oh," a new waitress startled them both out of their moment, carrying the tray of drinks, "Did I interrupt something? I can come back?"

Brittany stood up and brushed her dress out, smoothing the wrinkles, "No we're fine." She walked back over to her chair and took her seat.

The new girl, a brunette who seemed a little uneasy around them, but still had a smile on her face, set their drinks down on the table and pulled out the same tablet the older woman had been using earlier, "So what can I get you?"

Neither of them had looked over the menu, so Santana just asked simply, "Can you just bring her some kind of chicken, without any of those nauseating sauces, and I'll have the raviolis. Oh and a side of mashed potatoes?"

"With cheese," Brittany smiled and the young girl took both of their menus.

"Of course, be right back." She left them in a hurry and exited into the building.

"Are you okay," Santana asked once the girl was out of earshot.

Brittany smiled wider and took Santana's hand for the second time across the table, this time slipping their fingers together a little tighter, "Yes, let's just enjoy ourselves. I'm counting this as technically our first date, so we have to do it right. Today will be special."

"Even if we're in a different state, our best friend is plotting to take back her ex-girlfriend whom she slapped in a fiery rage, and our moms were so deep in a love that could have potentially prevented either of us from being born, all on top of the fact that we have to perform _and_ have solos in a national singing competition tomorrow?" Santana looked breathlessly proud of her little spiel.

Choosing to ignore every little detail and happy to stay wrapped up in a little perfect bubble of what was her and Santana's first date, Brittany simply nodded, "Even then."

* * *

><p>Rachel smelled garlic as she walked down the hallway towards the girl's room. Whatever it was smelled delicious and she was almost jealous, since everyone else was gone, it couldn't be coming from their room. Sliding her card into the lock, the door beeped and she slipped in through the barely open crack. She turned around to shut it slowly, and kept her hand on the handle until it fell carefully back into the frame.<p>

"Rachel," Quinn's voice startled her and she turned around with a hand held out in front of her chest.

"Quinn? You scared the hell out of me," she took a few deep breaths and dropped her purse onto the bed closest to her, "What are you doing?"

The table at the far side of the room, next to the window overlooking the streets below, was arranged as nice as it could look when the plates and forks were disposable. Rachel wanted to laugh at the place settings and wondered who tried to make it look so presentable. The unopened take-out boxes confused her even more.

Her eyes met back up with Quinn who was still smiling and looking over the blue dress she had put on before leaving this morning. "You look really nice," she said sweetly and Rachel felt the fresh sting of their breakup all over again. _'Why is she being so nice?'_ Rachel wondered and walked a few more steps into the room.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked her in a low voice.

Quinn walked closer and looked down at her hands that were busy pulling at the fabric of her own yellow and white striped dress, "I thought you might want to have dinner with me?"

"Dinner?" Rachel asked unbelievably.

"You know that thing where two people eat the same food together and talk casually about their day," Rachel narrowed her eyes when Quinn said the line that was oddly similar to when she had first asked her to hang out months before.

She played along spitefully, "You may think that's cute, but I actually find it kind of annoying."

"Still didn't get an answer," Quinn seemed downtrodden as she mumbled. Her eyes swirled in desperation, "Rachel…_please_? Can we talk?"

"I don't really have much to say," she insisted and crossed the room to find her makeup bag amidst the pile of luggage in the far corner.

"But," Quinn started sadly, "Rach…"

Ignoring her, Rachel walked over to the vanity mirror and applied some mascara and lip gloss, all under Quinn's watchful eyes. If she made eye contact, she surely would have cried, and didn't feel like giving her the satisfaction.

"Rachel?" Quinn tried again and Rachel clamped her eyes shut.

"I can't do this right now," she replied and zipped the bag closed, tossing it aside.

Quinn went over to the bed and dropped down, defeated, "Why? Big plans with Finn?"

Rachel wheeled on her heels, "Excuse me?" Her hands were barely shaking in anger.

"I overheard him talking to Sam and Puck, about asking you out tonight."

"He wanted to meet as co-captains, to discuss our plan for tomorrow," Rachel answered heatedly,"So you heard wrong." Under her breath she muttered, "Not like it matters anyway."

Quinn either didn't hear her, or just ignored it, "What's with the dress then? And I saw the suit he had on."

"Why does it matter so much to you," Rachel shouted. Quinn didn't have the right to be questioning her about anything, especially Finn. She was the one who wouldn't break up with him so they could just be together after months of tortured hiding.

"Because you shouldn't be with him," Quinn yelled back, now on her feet, planted firmly to the ground.

Rachel's words came out just as heated but stuttering in frustration, "W-Who should I be with, Quinn? With y-you?" The flood of tears broke through the gate and streamed down her rosy cheeks, "S-So I have to share you with everybody else? It's not fair!"

Quinn breached the distance between them and grabbed her wrists, "It won't be like that anymore. I promise. Please, just give me another chance."

A knock on the door spared Rachel a response and they parted to collect themselves. Rachel turned her back and tried to wipe away the tears still on her chin. She watched Quinn straighten her hair out subconsciously and take a few steps towards the door. The knock resonated again and Quinn yelled out, "Yeah, one second!"

The wooden door was pulled open and revealed Kurt and Lauren standing awkwardly on the other side of the doorframe. Kurt peeked his head in and saw her standing at the other side of the room. He looked warily between Rachel and Quinn before asking calmly, "Is everything okay in here? We heard shouting."

Lauren looked surprised to see them alone together and turned back to Quinn, "Are you gonna kick her ass or something? Cause I'd love to see that."

Kurt shushed her with a look and tried to peer around Quinn again to see Rachel, "Rachel? You okay?"

She cleared her throat and spoke up, "Yeah, I'm f-fine. I just, I have to go…um meet Finn." She pushed past Quinn, who was now standing in the middle of the room watching her.

"Rachel," Quinn mumbled again desperately, but she kept walking, passing Kurt and Lauren on her way down the hallway.

Kurt turned back to Quinn and stepped forward into the room, "Quinn?" He exchanged a weird look with Lauren, who shuffled towards her bed.

Wordlessly, Quinn scratched her face underneath her eyes and walked stiffly into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany poured into the hotel room, faces bright and cheerful coming down off the high from their evening. The room was a lot more animated that it had been when they left; Tina was playing solitaire across the comforter of one bed, Lauren and Kurt were watching TV together, ogling the male soap opera stars, and Mercedes had headphones in, practicing vocal runs quietly on her own bed.<p>

Brittany squealed and clapped her hands in delight, rushing over to Tina and begging to play _Go Fish_. Tina grinned and started shuffling the cards, "Santana, you wanna play?"

She looked around the room and noticed Rachel and Quinn were missing. Normally that fact might have been good news, but the boxes of take-out still cooling on the side table with untouched plates made her think twice about their disappearance. She shook her head mindlessly and asked, "Where's Rachel?"

Mercedes popped one ear phone out and answered, "Sam told me they were going to help Finn serenade Rachel on their date."

"Date?" Santana asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Yup," Tina nodded, "Mike went too."

'_Finn took Rachel on a date?'_ Santana knew that explained Quinn's disappearance well enough but she couldn't help but ask, "So anyone know where Quinn is?"

Kurt looked up and Santana could see the obvious concern on his face, "She's been in the bathroom since we got back a couple hours ago."

"In the bathroom," Santana snipped, "And all of you," she moved her hand around to signify everyone, "just thought that was normal?"

"Well," Kurt started, "no, but its Quinn," he looked at Lauren and then back to her, "we were a little afraid to ask her what was wrong."

"Something went down with Rachel," Lauren offered as some sort of excuse. Brittany was a little dismayed and looked at Santana sadly.

"You're all ridiculous," Santana muttered and left them to go back to whatever they were doing, heading towards the bathroom. The door was shut and figuring it was definitely locked, she tapped against the wood with her knuckle.

"Q, it's me," she whispered softly.

She heard footsteps against the tile and a rough answer, "Go away."

"Quinn," Santana sighed, "just let me in."

"I said go away," she heard Quinn say louder than before.

"Either you're opening the door or I'm going to get Schuester," Santana threatened, "Dealers choice."

A few seconds passed and she heard the lock click once. Santana twisted the cold, bronze handle and pushed into the room. The bright overhead light streamed through the room and highlighted the first thing Santana saw when she entered the room; long strands of blonde hair, littering the floor. Her breath quickened and her eyes shot up to find Quinn and prayed for her to not have butchered anything too badly. She looked past the orange-handled scissors laying scattered on the bathroom counter, up to Quinn's reddened face and saw the newly chopped hair, layered strategically.

"Jesus, Quinn," she got out, "I half-expected you to be bald."

"Expected or wished," Quinn asked irritably.

Santana's shoulders slumped. She knew this Quinn immediately. It was the same one who sold her out to Coach Sylvester, and the same one who tossed slushies in people's faces for the sake of a good laugh. _'I hope Rachel stays away for a while_' she thought, adjusting her attitude to handle the new demeanor. "What'd you do, Q?"

"Just needed a little sprucing up," she ran fingers through her new hair, "Want to look good for tomorrow." She couldn't hide the heartbroken look in her eyes or the way her face was still a little wet where she had missed wiping away tears.

"What happened," Santana asked calmly. If she were being honest, seeing Quinn act like a bitch again was frightening. She had mostly adapted to the "newer" Quinn and hoped to see a lot more of her than she had.

"Nothing," Quinn answered rudely, "I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you were, but the fact that you answered anyway makes me think you're not," moving over to the bathtub, Santana sat on the edge, perched next to Quinn.

"Didn't they," she pointed flippantly towards where their friends would be in the other room, "already tell you where Rachel was? What am I saying, of course they did. Kurt and Mercedes can't go a second without keeping their traps shut."

"So you talked to her," Santana wondered aloud.

"Nope," Santana narrowed her eyes in confusion, "tried to and got shut down. And just like I thought, Finn Hudson was there to sweep Rachel up off her indecisive little feet." Quinn turned to her with a scowl, "Anything else you need to know?"

"Back off, alright? You don't need to act like this towards me. We're friends," Santana spat back. She tried her best to not get pissed off but Quinn had been making it really hard not to.

"_Friends_," Quinn laughed darkly and put her head in her hands, "right."

"Alright, I'm not sitting here in a pity party with you," Santana stood up swiftly and looked down on her, "You can be a bitch, trust me, people are used to it. But that's not gonna change the fact that Berry is now in the arms of that lurch-looking mofo and you're sitting _alone _in bathroom crying."

Quinn wiped at her dry eyes with her left arm, "Go to hell, Santana."

"Gladly, as long as I don't have to put up with you." Santana opened the door quickly and slammed it shut behind her.

* * *

><p>"So you think everyone knows the cues?" Mike asked her. He seemed really worried and had been making rounds with every little group of the glee club, reminding them of the choreography.<p>

Brittany slapped him on the shoulder and grinned, "We've got this. Don't worry, if anyone messes up, I'll just sing louder so they're distracted."

Mike laughed, "That might work." He winked at her and stepped away. "Especially if you're out of key," he teased and walked over to Tina and Artie, behind the curtain.

They were on in a few minutes and everyone gathered backstage to get psyched up. She looked around and searched for Santana, who seemed to disappear when Mike had came up and started talking to her. Looking towards the stage, she saw the girl leaning out through the curtain, sizing up the crowd. She smiled, knowing Santana was still on edge.

Making sure no one was looking, Brittany crept up behind her and wrapped both arms around her waist. She felt Santana jump in her arms and when she realized who it was, she relaxed into the embrace. Brittany rested her chin down on Santana's left shoulder and whispered, "Picture everyone in their underwear."

She titled her head to the side and saw Santana's eyelids flutter closed. "I don't think that's gonna work," she answered, smiling.

"Hmm," Brittany clicked her tongue, "how about if you picture me in my underwear?" Santana shivered in her arms and she grinned.

"That might work," Santana laughed and Brittany kissed her neck, barely moving her head so the motion was undetectable.

When she did, Santana shrugged out of her arms, "B…"

"Sorry," Brittany lowered her head instinctively. _'I guess yesterday was too good to be true,_' she thought sadly.

"No, don't be," Santana reached down and linked their pinkies, "I'm sorry, okay? Just…not yet."

Brittany wanted to be upset, but she remembered the promise she made to Santana about giving her time, and simply nodded.

Her pinky was tugged forward hurriedly, and Santana leaned in to whisper, "I love you. Alright?"

Right then, it was everything for her to just have Santana, even in secret. They weren't hiding from each other anymore and that was enough to keep hiding from everyone else. She thought about how sad it was for Quinn to have Rachel leave her, just because she wouldn't tell anybody about them.

She wouldn't do that to Santana; Santana was hers and she wouldn't give her up for anything. Brittany smiled and whispered back, "I love you too."

* * *

><p>Everyone just looked at each other. The crowd was almost as silent as they were, except for a few mumblings and whispers about what just happened on stage. Finn and Rachel were still locked in each other arms and Quinn felt sick.<p>

'_I have to hurl,'_ she thought and put a hand up to cover her mouth. Santana was looking at her, eyes full of concern and she waved her away unnoticeably, making sure no one could see her panic. Her head felt like it was spinning.

'_They kissed,'_ her mind kept saying. And Rachel hadn't pushed him away. That meant she wanted it and more importantly she didn't want Quinn anymore. Her pulse hammered against her temples and she took a couple deep breaths to steady herself. As the music picked up again for their group number, she tried to pick her stomach up off the floor.

Xx

Quinn sat at the table by the window in their hotel room with Brittany and Santana sharing the same chair on the other side and Sam sitting with his head in his hands. Still in their black, competition dresses, Santana was in Brittany's lap and crying, muttering something about how it was her fault they lost.

Losing her nerve at listening to Santana whine, Quinn said loudly, "It's not your fault Santana. If we're blaming anybody we should be blaming Finn and Berry."

Rachel's head snapped to attention when her name was said and she glared over at Quinn, "We didn't lose because of," she paused, "of what happened up there." Finn nodded his head in agreement and stood up to speak until Santana cut them off.

"No, you don't get to speak jolly green giant, sit the fuck back down," she screamed across the room.

"Santana," Mr. Schuester warned, sitting with his head in his hands.

"No, I'm not gonna sit here and kiss wonder boy's ass because he got to get his mack on with the hobbit in front of hundreds of people. You ruined our chances at winning anything, at making something of ourselves. This is your fault."

"Santana, that really isn't fair," Rachel chimed in calmly and Quinn watched Santana's eyes burn in fury.

Mid-lunge, Quinn and Sam jumped up from the table and grabbed her; Sam around her waist and Quinn held onto one of her thrashing arms as tight as she could. Santana started yelling in Spanish and it took all of Quinn's power to restrain her. She saw how frightened Rachel was and pushed away the tiny feeling of concern that bubbled under the surface. Santana had a point, and they deserved everything she had to dish out; even if Quinn was probably the only one in the room who could understand what she was saying, their teacher included.

When Santana's rant finished, even though she was still pulling and threatening them, Finn spoke, "I made a mistake, okay?" Rachel looked hurt but he continued, "I shouldn't have done it, but I'm not going to say I'd ever take it back." He put a large hand on Rachel's shoulder and Quinn felt the sickness again. She wanted to tear his hand off of Rachel and throw him through the thirty-story window.

A hand snuck up into hers and she trailed the arm back to see Brittany smiling kindly, and pulling her back. Quinn released her grip on Santana, who had for the most part calmed down, and sat on the edge of the table next to Brittany.

Brittany rested her head against Quinn's leg and shut her eyes. Sometimes, she really loved Brittany. She had a way of making everything just a little bit better, just by changing the subject or making a ridiculous joke. But the best part was when she could calm Quinn down, just by being there. Brittany and Santana were the ultimate friends that she could have ever asked for; Santana called her on her shit and Brittany helped pick up the pieces. Quinn closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Brittany's head against her leg, letting everything else drift away.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe we lost," Santana sipped out of a ceramic coffee cup and set it back down on the table. Brittany sat across from her, sticking her tongue out every few seconds to lick the whip cream from the top of her drink.<p>

"Who cares," Brittany said humorously.

They had a few hours before the plane left to take them home, and Mr. Schuester let everyone go out and explore if they promised to be back in time for the taxi's to take them to the airport. Santana even waited until they were out of his earshot before making another joke about how irresponsible he was. They had offered Quinn to come with them, having remembered about the little café only a few blocks away from the hotel, but she denied and decided to stay in the room and catch up on some reading she had for homework.

"I care, I wanted to win," Santana hung her head, "I know that bullshit kiss mostly likely threw our chances out the window, but this trip would've been so much cooler if we went home with a trophy."

"I loved this trip," Brittany told her, burying her nose in the whip cream. She came up and licked it up off of her upper lip and tried to get it off the tip of her nose with her tongue.

Santana was laughing, "Why?" She reached over and tried to hand Brittany a napkin.

Brittany waved it away and said, "Our date made me decide something."

Santana blushed and picked up her mug to hide her face, "Oh really?"

"This is where we're gonna live," Brittany replied, sucking on the straw in her iced coffee.

"Where we're going to live when?" Santana asked coyly, grinning from ear to ear. Brittany's words knocked the air from her lungs. She couldn't believe Brittany had just suggested they were going to live together. Not that she hadn't thought of it before. But knowing they were on the same track made her heart inflate in happiness

"When schools over." Brittany's face lit up when she looked up and noticed how hard Santana was smiling.

"Do I get a say in this?" Santana asked. The afternoon sun was starting to drift down and she shifted in her seat to avoid the glare in her eyes.

"Do you want to pick what color the walls are," Brittany asked in confusion, "Wait, do you not want to live with me?"

Santana jolted upright in her seat, "No, Britt, I want to live with you. _Of course,_ I want to live with you, someday, but I'm just saying we might want to keep our options open."

"So, not New York City?" Brittany asked, looking around at the shiny buildings, soaring up around them.

Santana shrugged, "Maybe. Maybe not. We have a whole year to decide."

"Fine," Brittany crossed her arms, "I just really like it here. It has a lot of history for us."

"Not just for us," Santana muttered, remembering the picture they found at the restaurant.

Brittany seemed to remember it too, "I don't want to say anything yet, okay? Can we just let it go for now?"

Nodding, Santana picked up her wallet, grabbed a few bills, and dropped them on the table, "Yeah, I'm okay with that."

"Where are we going?" Brittany followed her up out of the chair and trailed behind her through the café.

"You'll see." Santana grinned and grabbed Brittany's hand.

Xx

"I know where we're going," Brittany declared, bouncing on her feet a little. They had been walking for a little over ten minutes and Santana hadn't given her any details on their destination. When they turned down the last street, Brittany recognized the pattern of trees lining the sidewalk and the familiar aged, brown-brick apartment buildings. Huge stairways led up into the crowded duplexes and Brittany remembered their mothers dragging them here at least once on every trip.

"_Can we please go back to the hotel, my feet are killing me," Santana whined and tugged at her flats. Brittany chuckled as she bounced from foot to foot trying to alleviate the pain._

"_Not yet mija, this is important," Maria announced and looked up, with Anna on one side, at the crumbled building. It stood, incredibly similar to the ones surrounding it, five or six stories high with a few balconies overlooking the street. Anna and Maria gazed at one in particular and then at each other, and Brittany felt like she was missing out on a huge secret. _

"_Why do you look sad?" Brittany walked up to her mother's side and clung to her arm tightly. _

_Anna looked at Maria and then back down to Brittany, "Two people we used to know lived here a long time ago."_

"_Who?" Santana asked, agitated at being brought here for what felt like the hundredth time._

"_Old friends," Maria supplied and continued to look over the building. She stepped forward and ran her hand over the cement banister running up the length of the stairs thoughtfully._

"Just doesn't seem right coming here without seeing it," Santana remarked and stood at the bottom of the stairs, running one hand over the spot her mom had years ago.

Wrapping an arm around Santana's waist, Brittany leaned her head down on Santana's shoulder, "A lot of stuff makes sense now."

"I think I liked it more when it didn't make sense," Santana admitted and Brittany hip-checked her. "We should go inside," Santana suggested mischievously. Without waiting for a response, she darted up the stairs and stood staring at the panel of names and buttons.

Brittany chased up after her, "Santana, no. We're gonna get in trouble. We'll get arrested and then we'll miss the plane back to Lima."

"Screw Lima," Santana said and ran the index fingers on both of her hands up the buttons on either side of the speaker panel.

"What are you doing?" Brittany whispered. Her eyes darted around and inside the building, making sure no one was watching them.

Santana turned to her with a smug smirk, "Haven't you ever seen a romantic-comedy? If we ring all of them, someone has to open the door."

"This is ridiculous," Brittany grinned. The fear-induced adrenaline was coursing through her veins and she felt herself fall in love with Santana all over again. _'Only her,'_ she thought and watched Santana press a few more buttons.

"Come the fuck on, someone just push the damn button already," Brittany thought she heard a low chuckle and then the door buzzed open. She disregarded it as Santana pulled her through the now open door and ran up the stairs. They went up staircase after staircase and as fit as Brittany was, she still thought she was going to die. When they reached the top and final door, Santana kicked it roughly. The metal door slammed open and Santana quickly found a tool box, just inside, to prop it open so they weren't locked outside.

The sun was a lot further down in the sky than it had been before and Brittany marveled at the New York City skyline across the wide expanses of Central Park. Her mouth fell open and she walked closer to the ledge, putting both hands down on the cement enclosure.

"It's so pretty up here," she said and turned around to find Santana setting up a camera on the ledge of the service window next to the door, "what're you doing?"

"Getting a picture," she clicked the button, "wait, uhm," she started running towards Brittany, "shit, get ready." When Santana closed the final gap between them, she grabbed Brittany's waist. The shock sent a thrilling surge to Brittany's stomach and she couldn't resist kissing Santana. Their lips melded together smoothly. She sucked on Santana's lower lip and was delighted to find the taste of coffee still mixed in with her cheery lip gloss. Santana's thumbs skirted under the edge of her shirt and she squirmed, the sensation tickling her. Brittany threaded her fingers through Santana's hair that was down around her shoulders and pulled her closer against her mouth. She barely noticed the flash in the background when Santana's tongue ghosted through her open lips and pressing against her own. Santana turned them, so Brittany's back was to the open sky and another flash went off.

Santana broke away from her mouth and placed a few small kisses to the corners of her mouth, under her ear, and across the hollow of her throat, left bare by her v-neck t-shirt.

"Come back," Brittany's voice was pleading and Santana relented instantly, pushing their mouths together again softly. Brittany shivered when Santana's tongue traced around the inside of her bottom lip and she forced Santana's tongue out and back into her own mouth, where Brittany clamped down softly on her upper lip, the tips of their noses brushing together.

Brittany pulled away, but her lips still rested over Santana's, "Any more pictures I can help you with?"

Santana smiled, "I'll let you know."

* * *

><p>For the trip back, Brittany insisted on sitting next to Quinn. They had been using each other for pillows most of the trip, Brittany with her head on Quinn's shoulder, and Quinn's head on Brittany's. Santana hadn't felt much like sleeping and spent a lot of the time talking to Puck and reading magazines.<p>

Puck had gotten up to pee, so Santana had her headphones in and was flipping through a copy of _Cheerleading Today_ she found in Brittany's carry-on bag. She was glad Brittany was asleep and she could stare a little bit longer at the skimpy cheerleading outfits. Not that these chicks had anything on Brittany, _'But who am I to judge.'_ She twisted the magazine for a better angle when Rachel sat down abruptly in Puck's vacant seat.

She pulled the book to her chest and glared, "Are you sure this is a good idea, Berry?"

Rachel responded, but since she still had her headphones in, she only watched her form words without knowing what they were. It took Rachel a long enough minute to realize she hadn't heard a word and bravely pulled one headphone from Santana's ear.

"Now you're really pushing your luck, short shit," Santana warned.

"I'm sorry, Santana," Rachel whispered, she glanced at Quinn out of the corner of her eye and Santana groaned.

"Trust me, I'm not the one you need to apologize to. Can you leave me alone now?"

Rachel twitched in the seat, "Do you know what she had planned?"

'_Are you kidding me?'_ Santana thought. How was Rachel going to come back, after making out with Finn for the whole world to see—in front of Quinn—and ask _Santana_ a question like that? She liked Rachel, she honestly did. But there was a line when it came to screwing over one of her best friends.

"Please, Santana," Rachel begged. She looked so upset and Santana hated that she actually felt sorry for her.

"Fine, alright," Santana tried to remember all the details, "well you saw the food right?" Rachel nodded, "It was Italian food and she made us go out and get it for her, because there was no vegan bullshit on the menu."

Rachel's fear started to melt away and her top lip curved up slightly on the right side. Santana gradually started to enjoy her own description, and how much it obviously was pleasing Rachel. It gave her the tiniest bit of hope for the two of them. She described how frantic Quinn was trying to set the table, and how pissed she had been when the room service waiter wouldn't give her a candle to light; she even mentioned the tongue lashing Quinn had given him and how he left the room a broken man—Rachel didn't seem too happy to hear that. The movie selection made her gasp quietly and Santana made sure neither Quinn nor Brittany woke up.

"That's pretty much it," Santana concluded and leaned back into her chair. Yawning, she grabbed the blanket on Brittany's lap and took only enough to cover one leg.

"I can't believe she did all that," Rachel stared into the empty space in front of her and sighed, "I'm so stupid."

"Yup," Santana agreed. She expected to be chastised or yelled at but Rachel simply nodded in agreement.

"I love Finn," Rachel said softly.

Santana turned to her, "And I care why?"

"Cause I love her too."

'_No shit!'_ It wasn't that big of a surprise to Santana. She didn't know what to say, so she just gave her a tiny half-smile and hoped Rachel would take the hint.

"Thanks, Santana."

Puck came back from the bathroom and seemed surprised to see Rachel in his seat, "Wanna share or something? I mean judging from that kiss I don't think Finn would be all that happy, but I'd be happy to oblige."

"No thanks Noah," Rachel turned back to Santana, "Just, take care of her okay?" Santana saluted mockingly and Rachel walked back to her row of seats with Finn and Sam.

Puck plopped down into his seat and smirked at her, "If you want a hot Jew to join you guys in bed, I told you I'd be more than happy."

She slapped his head, "What'd I tell you?"His devious grin grew and he winked, before reaching down and putting his seat back to a reclining position.

Brittany stretched in her seat and snuck her head out from under Quinn's head, replacing it with the pillow lying uselessly in her lap. She snaked her arm through Santana's on top of the armrest and squeezed closer.

"I'm proud of you," Brittany mumbled sleepily. Her blue eyes were hazy as she stared up into Santana's gaze.

"What for?" Santana asked and scooted closer so she could take more of the blanket.

"You didn't yell at Rachel," Brittany gave her a tired smile.

"I thought you were sleeping," she teased and twirled a strand of Brittany's long hair around one finger gently.

"_Usually,_" Brittany teased back and yawned.

"Go back to sleep," Santana mimicked her yawn and pushed Brittany's head down against her arm. They reflected Quinn and Brittany's earlier position, only it was Santana's head on top of Brittany's this time.

"I'll see you when we land," Brittany whispered, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"I'll see you there," Santana answered and fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That felt like such a good ending, oh my god. Can't believe I have to keeeeep writing ;)  
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**Thank you so much! Keep reviewing, they honestly make my day. You guys are amazing. This story started as a little, "oh hey lets write fanfiction and see if anybody will actually like it" to something I put a lot of effort into making sure is well done and thoughtful. Just thanks, for sticking with it :) now you can all mock me for being a cheeseball ;)**


	33. you always feel my eyes on you

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: What to say about this chapter. Well for starters, you may want to jog your memory of chapter uhm 13 I think? It's not necessary, I mean the scene'll stand alone but it references that chapter kinda. Do what you like about that. There will be 1 more chapter during this summer and then season 3 starts. I don't want to say anything that'll spoil this chapter. Just go read :)**

**thetamarine-Yes, Finn is very much all of those things haha. It makes me sad cause I used to like Finn and now he's such a douche to Rachel I can't like him.**

**jace5238-Whoa, whoa, whoa...who said they're going to new york? Shit I did kinda didn't I? ;) I'm definitely thinking about writing past season 3. Regardless of what they do on the show, even though I follow it, I already have ideas for AU adult Brittana. I love writing them happy! I'm glad you like it :)**

**Ninaddict-Well thank you haha Yeah I kinda feel like they leave a lot of blanks in everyone's storylines, so I'm just doing my tiny bit to provide headcanons left and right. I will be going into season 3. I just hope whatever the show does doesn't screw too much with what I have planned :P**

**Breakdown6-Oh come on, you know fanfiction is so much more important than work ;) Do you remember a few months ago when you asked if I was trying to kill you about something, I think it was angst related? Well that time I was trying to kill you with fluff. Sounds like I succeeded ! Haha I liked that Finn puts you into such a rage. Maybe I'll emphasize his season 3 dickery to make you even more mad haha god I love your reviews :) thanks bud!**

**Kendojin- Only person to call me a cheesball! Nice! Oh that makes total sense, I do it too lol this is all the stuff that I pictured happening when the real stuff happened. No don't ship Quitt! That's not my intention! (even though that'd be totally hot...ahem) I'm still working out what to do with Anna/Maria. Oh yeah, I'm totally gonna try to attempt 'Heart' at some point. although I feel like there was so much fluff already I couldn't compare. ahhh smut...good ol' smut...**(go read)**...well thanks for the review ;) **

**JohnDo-Thanks so much! I love that I keep getting new readers, and I hope you enjoy the rest of it. That moms think certainly picked up momentum among you guys quick haha. I need Unholy Trinity friendships, I want that on the show more than almost anything. It would be nice for glee to acknowledge friendships every now and then ;) Thanks, again!  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>The mall was crowded with almost everyone they knew from McKinley. Since school had been let out a couple days earlier, and there not being much to do in Lima anyway, it made sense everyone would be there. Brittany, happy to be back in khaki shorts and a t-shirt, walked side by side with Santana, who wore army green capri's and a grey pullover hoodie. The sound of their slapping flip-flops echoed through the cavernous building.<p>

"Do they have pretzels?" Brittany asked, craning her neck up and around the tiny food court with a devious smile. She hoped Santana hadn't noticed it.

Smirking, Santana shook her head, "You know they do, B."

"Oh do they? I must've forgot..." she replied, keeping her eyes away from Santana.

"Sure," Santana tried to draw her attention, "wait I have a question."

"What?" Brittany turned and looked at her with a smile. She knew the girl had caught her.

"Do you _want_ a pretzel?" she asked, lips turned up and eyebrows raised.

"I mean, if you're offering sure." Brittany linked her arm through Santana's and pulled her towards the pretzel stand.

"Did you think I wouldn't buy you one if you asked?" Santana dug in her purse for her wallet and produced a few bills. She pointed at the sign, ordering one pretzel for her. They walked a little further into the room and took a seat at one edge, away from most of everyone else.

Brittany smiled wider when Santana handed her the food, "Well I didn't want to assume."

Tearing off a piece and popping it into her mouth, she asked, "Why not?"

"Cause when you assume, you make an ass out of u and us," Brittany responded through a mouthful of doughy pretzel. Santana watched her lips when she swiped at the salt residue on the corners of her mouth. Brittany swore she saw her eyes widen the second her tongue was out of her mouth.

"You and me, Britt," Santana told her and she shook her head.

"That's what I said, you," she pointed at Santana, "and us," she motioned between them.

"But there aren't two u's in 'assume," Santana added and reached across the table, grabbing another piece of food.

"But there are a lot of s's," Brittany put the last piece of pretzel into her mouth and swallowed. The buzz of chatter in the food court died down as more people finished their lunches. Brittany sat back in her chair and looked around the room, trying to pick out if any of their friends were there.

"That is very true," Santana leaned forward and propped her head down against her hand. Her elbow dug into the table and Brittany put a hand out to stead the wobbly table. "So what are we doing today?"

Brittany still looked around the room, "Just shopping." She wondered: if she couldn't keep Santana from figuring out her pretzel plan, than how well could she keep her next surprise.

"What kind of shopping?" Santana asked and rolled her head to the side so her temple was resting against her knuckles. Brittany could feel her face being studied and how her stomach fluttered knowing Santana was watching her so closely. Under any circumstances, it felt amazing.

Before she could catch herself, she said, "Phone-shopping."

"Phone?" Santana sounded bewildered, and Brittany chanced a look at her; she saw the confusion and how Santana pulled her phone from her pocket. "You just got a new phone."

"I know," Brittany said definitively.

Santana looked at her curiously, "And I don't need a phone." She held her phone up and waved it.

"Yup," she nodded her head and looked back around the room.

Santana sat back in her seat. She didn't look happy and Brittany figured she was catching on slowly.

"Who's getting a new phone, Brittany?" Santana asked impatiently.

Instead of answering, Brittany continued to look around the food court impatiently. She side-eyed her phone in case there was a new message. Santana scooted forward and stared at her with a scowl.

"Someone else is coming here aren't they?" Her irritation made Brittany want to laugh but she instead looked past her head and saw who she was waiting for. She waved and Santana scowled further. "Please tell me it's not Berry."

"It's not Berry," Brittany repeated and held in a smirk. '_She did tell me not to tell her that's who it was.'_

"Hey guys!" Rachel's voice chirped behind Santana, who rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Seriously, B? You just told me it wasn't her."

Rachel looked hurt but also a little entertained as she walked up and pulled out another chair at the table. Santana seemed to be refusing to look at her.

"I just told you what you wanted me to," Brittany reasoned and smiled at Rachel. Rachel scooted her chair in a little further, and Brittany guessed she was trying to draw attention to herself, or at least to make Santana acknowledge her.

"Rude," Santana said and crossed her arms defiantly. She turned her head away from the table and pouted.

Brittany leaned her foot under the table and found Santana's leg. When she started rubbing it against the inside of her calve, she was surprised that Santana didn't fidget or even respond.

In an extremely nervous voice, Rachel squeaked, "Uhm, I'm not really sure who's doing that, but I'm going to just suggest whoever it is stops because I think they have the wrong person."

Brittany's face burned and she dropped her leg immediately. Santana's eyes widened and she tried to glance under the table, smirking at Brittany when she saw how close her leg was to Rachel. Rachel cleared her throat, chuckling a little uncomfortably.

"Sorry," Brittany whispered, and covered her face with both hands. Laughing, Santana stood up from the table.

"Come on, let's just get this over with," she stormed away from them and Brittany slowly climbed to her feet, Rachel following on her side.

Rachel watched Santana's back enter the Verizon store, "So I'm guessing she's still mad about New York."

"Which part?" Brittany asked, tossing her trash into nearest garbage can, "Kissing Finn or the whole," she ducked her head, "Quinn-thing."

Sighing, Rachel shut her eyes for a few seconds. She opened them and stared uncomfortably at the side of her face, "How—have you talked to her at all?"

"Quinn?" Rachel nodded, "No, we haven't seen her since we got back."

"At all?" Rachel said worriedly. Brittany could see how nervous she was and tried to smile as she shook her head. They were still a few stores away when Rachel grabbed her arm and pulled her around so they were facing each other. "I know, I messed up, but it doesn't mean I don't care about her. You know that right?"

She didn't understand why Rachel was trying so hard to convince her. Brittany ran her hand up and down her arm reassuringly, "Yeah I know, why?"

Rachel huffed, "Well it's obvious Santana hates me. I just don't want you to hate me too."

"I don't hate you. Sure, you're super annoying sometimes, but that doesn't mean I hate you. I like you." Rachel flinched when she called her annoying, but still smiled a little more contently.

"Thanks for inviting me today," she added, "I didn't really want to bring my dads when everyone was gonna be here. I'm sorry if you made her," she pointed into the store, "mad."

Brittany laughed and linked her arm with Rachel's, "She's not mad. Well, she's a little mad. But no one ever realizes that she's just like a big bear."

"A bear?" Rachel seemed confused, so she explained.

"Everyone is afraid of bears, but they're really just extremely cuddly," she grinned, "and love honey. They especially love honey."

"But bears eat people," Rachel reasoned.

"Those are bears that don't have anyone to cuddle with," Brittany pointed at herself, "and she has me. So she won't be eating anybody else." Brittany couldn't help but laugh a little on the inside at her own private joke that she was sure Rachel wouldn't understand.

Rachel laughed, "If you say so Brittany."

"C'mon," Brittany grabbed her arm and pulled her through the doors.

* * *

><p>Rachel tapped at the screen and her face pulled together in annoyance. She kept spelling names wrong while she tried to transfer numbers from her old cell. "I don't think I should have bought this."<p>

Santana rolled her eyes and picked up her smoothie from the table. It had been an hour—maybe—since they left the store after she convinced Rachel to just spring for the new iPhone, and all Rachel had done was complain about it. If Brittany wasn't sitting right next to her, the device would already be sitting at the bottom of the fountain they sat a few feet away from. She squirmed irritably against the fake leather couch plastered to her lower back where her shirt had ridden up. Someone, somewhere, was playing a cruel joke by turning off the air-conditioning.

"Stop complaining," Santana demanded and handed the drink to Brittany.

"It's just so weird, I'm not used to the screen," she blew out a hot breath of air when she messed up another contact.

"You'll get used to it, stop complaining. It's a lot better than that piece of shit you had before."

Rachel turned to her and scowled, "That 'piece of shit' lasted for six years of middle school and high school.

Santana pulled her own phone out and clicked through, seeing she had a new voicemail. _'My phone didn't ring,'_ she thought and looked over at Brittany.

"What?" Brittany asked, slurping up the remainder of the smoothie.

Santana pointed to her phone, "Voicemail. I'm gonna go check it."

Brittany's hand skirted the edge of Santana's elbow, where it rested on the back of her seat, and she winked, "Hurry back."

Santana smirked lazily, and walked away from them towards the hallway leading to the bathroom. Brittany looked over and saw Rachel sitting defeated, with her arms crossed and glaring at the pulsing water.

"What's wrong?" Brittany scooted closer and pulled both of her feet up onto the couch.

"This is stupid," she tossed the phone aside onto the shiny cushion, "I should have just got the Blackberry. The guy recommended the Blackberry. I liked how it felt. I could type easily on it. But, no. Santana had to insist on me getting having her precious iPhone. What kind of phone do you have? Who am I kidding? Anyone within ten feet of Santana _has_ to have an iPhone."

Brittany pulled her phone out of her tight pocket and flashed it to Rachel, "Actually I have a Blackberry."

Her eyes bugged out of her head and Brittany laughed, "Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, but me and Quinn went together, so that's why I got this. She got one too." Her eyes twinkled with enjoyment, "They match."

"When?" Rachel asked, she knew Quinn's phone and she didn't remember her having the one Brittany was showing her.

"The day we got back from New York," Brittany's smile fell away.

"So you have seen her since we got back," Rachel added and turned a little more fully towards her.

"I guess," Brittany rubbed her palms together nervously.

"Brittany," Rachel urged her on.

"You can't tell Santana," she stated urgently and Rachel nodded. She looked around to make sure the girl wasn't on her way back yet. "Okay, well, Quinn's gone."

"Gone?" Rachel's eyes widened and she pushed closer to Brittany, "w-what do y-you mean she's gone. Gone where?"

_Brittany rushed over to Quinn's house after Santana had dropped her off. The minute they were out of the school parking lot, her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fished through her sweatpants to find it. _

_**(4:21 PM) Unknown #:**_ Hey, it's Q, can you come over when you get home. I need your help. Plz don't tell San.

_She waited for Santana to pull out of her driveway and go down the street before tossing her bags into the living room and riding her bike over to Quinn's. When she got there, Quinn was sitting on her front porch, looking through a couple pieces of paper._

_Brittany trotted up the walkway with a huge smile on her face, "What's up, Q?"_

_Quinn gave her a half-smile and stuffed the papers in the purse she had laying next to her on the step. Brittany remembered seeing a tiny plane on one of them, but thought nothing of it at the time. "Shopping?"_

"_I thought you needed help?" Brittany asked. _

"_I do, or I will. But we have to go shopping first." Quinn stood up and pulled her keys from her pocket. They drove down to the mall and it seemed like her first destination was the Verizon store. They went inside and Brittany watched her pick up and test all of the different models. Only then did she remember the random number Quinn had used to text her._

"_What happened to your phone?" Brittany asked, walking patiently behind her._

_Not looking up, Quinn admitted stiffly, "I smashed it."_

_Brittany looked at her in confusion, "You…smashed it?"_

"_Yup," Quinn said and picked up a white Blackberry. She rolled the ball insistently with her thumb._

"_Why?" Brittany drew the word out playfully. She wanted to laugh, but it didn't seem all that funny to Quinn so she stayed quiet._

"_It wouldn't let me delete a few things, and I got irritated, so I smashed it. It's about time I got a new one anyway, right?" _

_Brittany shrugged and a salesman walked up to them with a bright cheery smile._

"_Hello ladies, can I help you with anything?" He beamed at the two of them and Brittany smiled back but Quinn didn't look up from what she was doing._

_Instead, she asked rudely, "Does this phone count for the buy one get one deal?"_

_Brittany tilted her head, "You're buying two phones. Is that in case you smash one of them?" _

_Quinn smirked, "No, Britt."_

_The young guy, maybe a few years older than them, smiled and nodded, "Yes it does. Is that what you're looking for?"_

"_It's in my hand isn't it?" Quinn spat venomously. Brittany saw him make a face and then force his smile wider._

"_Of course, so you want two of them. Both in white?"_

_Quinn looked at Brittany, still smirking, "Do you like white?"_

"_Yeah, it's fine," she didn't really understand why Quinn was asking her. The phone she already had was white, so she liked the one Quinn had picked right away._

_For the first time she looked at him, "Two in white then." He left with an awkward smile and Brittany was even more confused._

"_What?" Quinn asked her. Her tone bordered between irritation and humor. _

"_Did you just buy me a phone?" Brittany asked unsurely. That's what it sounded like, but with Quinn she needed to make sure._

"_Yes," Quinn smiled fully. _

"_Why?" she asked strangely. _

_Quinn shrugged and walked over to the register where the guy from before was waving them over. "I don't know. Cause its buy one get one and you're my friend."_

"_But you still have to pay to activate it," Brittany said reasonably. _

"_Don't worry about it," Quinn laughed and produced an envelope full of what Brittany noticed were hundred dollar bills, "My aunt sent me some money so it's not like I'm paying."_

"_Why did you she send you money?" Brittany asked nervously. She was aware of Quinn's aunt Leslie who lived in New Mexico. Listening to Judy and Russell say hateful comments towards Judy's sister, gave Brittany a little more of an understanding why Quinn loved her so much. She knew they rarely saw each other, but she had seen a few of the letters they exchanged since they were in middle school. _

_Quinn signed a few of the papers she was handed and picked up the bag with their new phones and walked out of the store. She strode forward without looking at Brittany, and Brittany could sense a little of her uneasiness. Still not looking at her, Quinn said, "This is the part I didn't want Santana to know. Okay Britt?" Brittany nodded. "I'm leaving for a month or so."_

"_Leaving where?" Brittany asked. Her heart dropped when she had a feeling why she was leaving. They passed through the doors outside and walked towards Quinn's car. _

"_New Mexico. Just for the rest of May and a little of June. Okay, probably all of June and a little of July." Brittany pulled open the passenger door and slipped into the seat, watching Quinn turn the car on and flip through the radio stations._

_Nervously, she asked, "Is this about Rachel?"_

_Quinn tensed up and turned the music up loud. Brittany tried to ignore the deafening volume and kept her eyes focused on her face. They pulled away and drove a little farther down the road to a strip mall. She watched Quinn run her fingers through her hair nervously when they walked through the door to the convenience store. Silently, Quinn searched the overhead signs and subtly ticked off each until she found the row labeled 'hair-care.' Brittany remembered this is where they had always bought Quinn's blonde hair dye. But, there was nothing wrong with Quinn's roots so she didn't understand what brought them there. When Quinn picked up the box of professional pink hair dye, her eyes widened._

"_Pink?" Brittany asked uncomfortably. The store owner kept walking past their aisle, and she figured he thought they were trying to steal something, so she just ignored him. Quinn was so transfixed reading the back of the box, she didn't seem to notice him._

"_It's what I need help with," Quinn commented, and flipped the box over again. She held it up to her hair and turned to Brittany, "What do you think?"_

"_I think you're crazy," Brittany said seriously, "Why are you dying your hair Quinn?" Part of her wanted to call Santana; when it came to rationalizing with Quinn, she was the stronger influence._

_The hand holding the hair dye fell to her side and Quinn let a hint of defeat slip into her expression, "I just need a change, B."_

"_So dying your hair is the way to do that?" Brittany asked. "You could take a photography class, or read one of those self-help books your mom is always reading. That's a change."_

"_I'm leaving, Brittany, I already told you that. When I get there, I don't want anyone to think I'm the prissy Christian girl from Ohio."_

"_So you're the cotton candy girl from Ohio instead?" Brittany laughed. "Q, come on. This is ridiculous."_

"_Are you gonna help me or not? I can do it without you." _

"_Then why did you call me?" Brittany walked forward and put a hand on her arm._

_Quinn shrugged it away, "I needed to tell someone. I didn't want to just disappear. Well, I did, but…I don't know B. I didn't want you guys to think I died or something."_

_Brittany sighed. She knew there was nothing she could say to make Quinn stay and involving Santana would just make everything worse. And she definitely knew going to Rachel was not a smart choice. "Is this going to make you happy?"_

_Quinn leaned against the shelf on her right side, "No, but I don't really deserve to be happy."_

"_Quinn," Brittany started._

"_No, Britt. I don't. I've messed up everyone's lives. Finn's, Beth's," she paused and her lip quivered, "Rachel's. I just need to get away for a few months and find myself."_

_Brittany wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "That's not true," when Quinn protested again she silenced her with a look, "but I understand why you want to go. And I won't tell anyone. When you come home, we'll __**all**_ _be waiting for you." She emphasized 'all' and hoped Quinn understood she wasn't talking about herself or Santana. When she smiled, she figured she got it._

"So you just let her go," Rachel seemed hurt, "why wouldn't you try to stop her?"

"I did Rachel, but she was just," she shook her head and looked away, "so hurt. I didn't know what to say."

"You could've yelled, or stayed with her so she couldn't," Rachel pointed at Santana who was approaching slowly and whispered, "you could have told Santana."

"I told her I wouldn't," Brittany explained, "She's one of my best friends, I didn't want to break her trust."

Santana came to a half in front of them and hurriedly picked up on the tension, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," Rachel said and re-crossed her arms. Santana raised an eyebrow at her and she just huffed.

"Whatever smurf," Santana looked at Brittany and nodded towards the exit, "we have to go."

"Why?" Brittany asked nervously, and saw Rachel paying more attention to the conversation. There was always hope it was more information about Quinn.

"If I tell you, you're not gonna believe it," Santana laughed and pulled Brittany to her feet. They waved goodbye to Rachel—Brittany did at least—and walked out of the mall.

* * *

><p>"Ladies, do you know why I called you here?" Coach Sylvester demanded from the other side of her desk. Santana saw Brittany nervously glance at her, so she reinforced her bitch smirk.<p>

"You ran out of freshman to harass?" Santana quipped angrily.

"Very cute, sandbags," Sue said harshly, "I couldn't hear you over the sound of your sweater balloons deflating."

Brittany folded her lips in her mouth so she didn't laugh. It didn't stop Santana from looking over at her and rolling her eyes.

"I think you'll appreciate how hard it is for me to do this," Sue started, "but being a champion, I will do whatever it takes to win."

She pulled two boxes out from under her desk and sat them on top. Brittany started to bounce a little in her seat, but Santana stayed strong.

"I need another National's win this year, and I can't do that without two of my strongest Cheerio's." Sue handed Brittany her box and then handed one to Santana. They both pulled the lids over simultaneously and stared down at their newly pressed uniforms. The edges seemed different to Brittany as she ran her fingers through the pleated skirt.

Out of nowhere, Santana started laughing, "Wait, wait, wait. So you're begging us to come back? This is perfect! B, take a picture or something."

Sue glared at her, "Get it out of your system now, cause come August, I'm going to whip you back into shape along with the freshman. As punishment for quitting last year."

"What makes you think we even _want_ to be Cheerio's again. It was hell, why would we want to do that again? You tried to shoot Britts out of a canon Sylvester," Santana asked and saw Brittany tremble, remembering that day.

Sue sat back in her chair with a smirk that put them both on edge, "Something tells me this year, you might need the protection of that Cheerio's uniform." Santana felt a nervous chill go down her spine and she fought the urge to look at Brittany for reassurance. _'Coach can't know…can she?'_

Santana cleared her throat, "We'll do it." Brittany grinned and nodded her head. She was more than a little excited to be back on the squad. And she could tell Santana wanted back on, but for a very different reason.

"Outstanding," Sue said and put her glasses on, "now get the hell out of my office."

They both stood and started walking towards the door. At the last moment, when Santana's hand first touched the door knob, Brittany turned around, "What about Quinn?"

"What about her?" Sue asked nastily.

"Are you gonna ask her too?" Brittany thought part of Quinn's 'change' might include rejoining the Cheerio's. It would give her something to focus on besides, well, Rachel.

"I already called the Fabray's. Turns out Q skipped town." Sue continued scribbling in her notebook and shooed them away with her hand.

Santana looked at Brittany oddly, "Skipped town?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged and they exited Sue's office. She really didn't want to lie to Santana. For everyone involved, she really hoped Quinn would come back soon.

* * *

><p><strong>(11:23 AM)Brittany: <strong>Broccoli or mashed potatoes?

Santana tapped her cell against her chin thoughtfully.

**(11:24 AM):** mashed potatoes, why?

Her window was propped open and the slight breeze carried through, ruffling her curtains. Santana sat at her desk and flipped through her itunes, bored. Every few seconds she would double click a song and listen to the opening notes, only to click it off again. It was just to pass the time between Brittany's texts. After the girl had rejected her suggestion to hang out earlier that day, she had been receiving strange questions from her.

**(11:30 AM)Brittany:** Does it cost money to camp?

**(11:30 AM): **where? at Sun Valley?

**(11:33 AM)Brittany:** yep

**(11:33 AM): **like 20 bucks or something. why?

She opened up her web browser and typed _Sun Valley_ into the search bar. Images flooded her screen of campsites, nature trails, and the giant lake that looked like it was in the middle of the park. Santana had never been there herself, but that was where the boys all went to fish. She remembered Sam and Puck talking about it a few times in the choir room, bragging to each other.

**(11:42 AM)Brittany:** What are you doing later?

The newest text spiked her attention so she swiveled in her chair, so her back was to the window. Santana rolled her eyes in frustration; Brittany knew she wasn't doing anything, she was the reason Santana was sitting home alone in the first place.

**(11:42 AM):** B, come on. what's going on?

**(11:43 AM)Brittany:** be ready at like, 4 okay?

Santana quirked her eyebrow and stared at the screen in confusion. _'ready?' _she wondered. What did she have to be ready for? She was pretty sure when she asked Brittany to hang out, the answer was no.

**(11:45 AM): **ready for what?

The breeze picked up and blew across her collarbone, bare from her tank-top. She shivered and walked across the room to her bed and hopped on top of the covers. She groaned when Brittany still hadn't texted her back. She opened a paint application and drew fuchsia scribbles. The alert flashed across her screen and she read Brittany's final text.

**(11:58 AM)Brittany:** Just be ready :)

* * *

><p>She double checked her makeup in the mirror. Her bangs swept sideways across her forehead and she resisted the urge to brush them away. Tiny hairs tickled the back of her neck where it was tied back in a loose bun. Brittany strained against the uncomfortable seat belt across her torso; it had been a long time since she drove her mom's car. It might have been smarter for Santana to drive, but she wanted everything to be perfect. And letting her know the surprise would ruin "her" date. It's not like she couldn't drive, she just chose not to, or rather everyone else chose her not to.<p>

After readjusting the seat for the tenth or eleventh time, Brittany put the tiny white sedan into reverse and pulled backwards out of her driveway. Santana's house was only a few minutes away anyway. Most of the time she just rode her bike. Plus she had printed directions to the campsite, the trunk was packed with the food her dad picked up for her before him and Anna headed out to her cousin's for the weekend, the single person tent she struggled to put into its bag was laying across her backseat, and in a short amount of time Santana would be in the car with her. So there wasn't much that could go wrong. _'Not with Santana,'_ she thought, eyes drifting to the side to fantasize about their night.

The blaring horn roared her back to attention when she swerved a little into the next lane. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she passed through the intersection, ignoring the glaring looks she was getting on all sides for running the first stop sign. Brittany turned the radio on as she pulled onto the last street leading up to Santana's house. She could see Santana sitting wearily on the front step, eyeing the road impatiently. She smirked knowing that she was probably sitting there for close to twenty minutes, nervously waiting to see what Brittany had planned.

Brittany took a deep breath when she took in Santana's darkened skin, product of the few days they had spent in her pool. She never noticed the change when they were together, but when she saw the sheer blank tank-top laying against her skin, arms smooth and lean, contrasted against the white denim shorts cutting off well above her knee, she could definitely see the sun's handiwork. She also noticed that if it hadn't been for the strategically placed pink flowers, she could've seen right through the shirt. Brittany thought of her own skin, well-tanned and freckled from the sun exposure, and wondered if it looked nearly as sexy compared to Santana's appearance. Her cream and black colored, striped dress fell lazily across her body. It hadn't taken much effort, but she knew she still looked good.

Lost in thought, she rolled right past Santana's front yard. When she caught sight of unfamiliar houses, she looked back and saw Santana standing confused on her front lawn. Brittany slammed on the breaks and took a deep breath. _'Crap!'_ she thought and put the car in reverse. She hoped no one would come from the other direction, and backed up the rest of the way until she was right in front of where Santana was standing on the curb. She could hear Santana laughing as she walked the final steps to the car. When Brittany put a hand up to halt her movements, she stopped laughing immediately.

"Wait!" Brittany yelled and opened her door. She ran to the other side and put herself in the way of the door.

"What's up, Britt?" Santana said playfully. To Brittany's amusement, it still seemed like she didn't have a clue what was going on. She watched Santana check out her outfit and trail back up to her face, gaze focused on her lips. "You look hot."

Brittany felt her throat flush, "You too."

They stood awkwardly unspeaking until Santana's hip jutted to the side, "So what are we doing?" She looked into the car and frowned at the tent. Brittany wanted to smirk but she couldn't force her face to do anything but stare.

Brittany's head felt light. Nervousness crawled into her chest and she tried to push it away. _'It's just Santana'_ she kept repeating the mantra in her head over and over again.

"B?" Santana asked again. Her tiny smile was the only thing keeping Brittany on the ground.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" It sounded so cheesy in her head but it's the first thing that came out. Santana's face shifted in a way Brittany hadn't ever seen before. She didn't know if she should be concerned or excited.

"A date?" Santana asked dumbly. Brittany's heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest.

"Yes."

"When?"

Brittany smiled, "Right now."

Santana laughed. _'She's laughing?'_ Brittany thought nervously. Suddenly the scale was tipped a little further towards concerned.

Santana stopped laughing and put an extremely sweet smile on her face, "Of course I do."

It felt like someone turned her insides upside down, and Brittany had to resist clapping her hands together. "Yeah?"

Santana stepped a foot closer and grinned wider. Brittany thought she could see her reflection in Santana's shining teeth. "Yeah."

"Why'd you laugh?" Brittany asked.

Santana put a hand on her hip, "Is this your way of getting back at me about New York?"

Brittany couldn't help but laugh, "No. I just really wanted to take you on a date."

Santana looked like she stopped breathing. The warm summer air between them seemed to grow thicker and stuffier, but Brittany cut through it with another light chuckling. She turned to her car and pulled the passenger door open smoothly, "Ready?" She saw Santana's legs shift nervously as she approached and she couldn't help but smile.

Xx

She didn't think anything could get much more desolate than where they were driving through. Santana scrunched her nose up, the wind making her sinuses fuzzy. She hurriedly pressed the button to roll the window up and sat back against her seat. Brittany was humming contently, with her lips curved up in that careless grin that made Santana's whole body feel lighter. The late afternoon sun swam through the windows on Brittany's side of the car and shined bright on her face. She groaned and leaned her seat back out of the way. Brittany looked over at her and smiled.

"You okay?"

Santana shut her eyes and the red lining burned into her lids, "Stupid sun keeps going in my eyes."

Brittany reached up and turned the visor so it covered the offending sunlight and brought her hand down onto Santana's lap across the console, "Better?"

She was staring. Brittany had a way of putting a lot of effort into the tiniest looks when the moment called for it and Santana felt the same nervousness from when Brittany asked her to get in the car. Santana slipped her hand into Brittany's. She pressed her fingertips against the spaces between her fingers, spreading them farther apart, and slid the smoothly through, intertwining their hands together. A warm heat settled into her stomach and she turned away to look out the front of the window.

"Mhm," she mumbled and looked around the inside of the car. She needed some kind of distraction. If all her attention was on Brittany, Brittany's attention would be on her and they both needed at least a little focus to be on the road.

Xx

"What number is it?" Brittany asked, with her head out of the window. There were large rocks with painted numbers on them, indicating specific campsites. The car slowed to a crawl as they inched past the unclaimed plots. They were a little further back into the campground than they had expected to be, and heavily wooded trees surrounded them on all sides.

Santana ruffled with the papers the park ranger handed Brittany after she paid for their entry, "Uhh, I think 42?"

"That's 43," they drove a little further, "and 44. So it has to be next right?"

Santana laughed, "No, B. We passed it."

"Oh," Brittany said stopped the car. She turned around and drove them back a few spots.

"It's there," Santana pointed out her window and Brittany followed her direction to park along the faded dirt path. When they came to a full stop, Brittany rolled down the windows and got out of the car. She went around to the back and put the key in the trunk, unlocking and opening it. Santana followed her around and noticed the insulated bag full of different sized takeout containers. Brittany sorted through the blankets, lamps, and flashlights and Santana just watched her. She wrapped an arm around Brittany's waist and pulled her attention away from the trunk. Brittany glanced up at her and smiled. Looking around first, Santana leaned in a kissed her once on the corner of her mouth.

"What was that for?" Brittany asked coyly. She leaned in a little into Santana's body.

Santana shrugged and dropped her arm. The cool air couldn't keep up with her reddening cheeks; Brittany was making her nervous in the best way possible. It did things to her heart to know that Brittany put so much effort into their date. Part of the reason she couldn't figure out what Brittany was planning was because she didn't think anyone would care that much about her. She knew she loved Brittany, but she couldn't help but wonder how longer Brittany would love her back.

"Stop being so cute and go get the tent," Brittany instructed and shoved her playfully.

"Are we really sleeping here?" Santana complained.

"Nope," Brittany said and stepped away from the trunk, slamming it shut. She had the bag of food under one arm and had the blankets and lights bundled up under the other. She was smiling teasingly and winked at Santana.

"Are you kidding me," Santana asked, she had already put the bag over her shoulder and closed the door. The campsite included a fire-pit that Brittany didn't plan on using, a dirt patch for the tent she didn't plan on using and a picnic table she also didn't plan on using.

"I just wanted to mess with you," Brittany dropped the food to the ground and set down the lamps and flashlights next to it. Unrolling the navy quilted blanket, she laid it out over the dusty ground and kneeled down to spread it out further.

Santana let the tent fall to the ground with a thud and followed Brittany on to the ground. She was happy for their seclusion when she grabbed her by the waist and pulled the girl half on top of her. One of Brittany's hands rested on her chest and she cupped both of her cheeks. Santana pulled her down and slid her lips gently over Brittany's. The soft material of her dress slid carelessly against Santana's inner thigh and she fidgeted when it tickled her. When Brittany tried to pull back, she moved one hand up to her neck and pressed her down firmer, not allowing the separation. Her other hand slid down Brittany's side and dug her fingers into her hip. She didn't try to move them forward, completely content with the delicate pressure of feeling Brittany's soft lips moving carefully against her own. It was amazing, that even when she was reluctant, Brittany still held all the power in this kiss. Santana had them when it came to passion, but Brittany won out when it came to romance.

Santana released her hold and licked her lips as Brittany pulled away. She hoped that wasn't where that part of their night ended. Brittany's face lit up when she put a hand on either side of Santana's head and hoisted herself up.

"I'm not sure if that's proper second-date behavior," she teased and bent forward to kiss Santana's nose.

"Probably should've waited till after we ate at least," Santana sat up and held onto Brittany's back so she didn't fall backwards.

Brittany leaned over and grabbed the bag of food, "I'm not sure anything in here is going to taste as good as that." She pulled out the familiar Breadstix takeout boxes and set them down on the blanket around them. Santana eagerly awaited the long, rectangular shaped box she hoped Brittany had remembered. When she saw it, she grabbed it out of Brittany's hand and opened it hurriedly. The long, narrow breadsticks overflowed the tiny container and her eyes lit up. She unconsciously licked her lips and Brittany laughed.

Santana had already taken a large bite out of one of them. "I knew I shouldn't have brought them. Now I know I can't be the best tasting thing here." Brittany laughed and pulled out a couple paper plates and forks.

Suddenly, Santana lunged forward and kissed Brittany so forcefully they both fell backwards. Her tongue slipped past Brittany's lips and skirted against the edge of her mouth. She felt Brittany smiling and trying to keep up. When she pulled back, Santana smiled, "They can't even compare."

Brittany pushed up and pecked her lips, "Good to know." She brushed away the few crumbs that had transferred to the corners of _her_ mouth and laughed again.

They sat up and Brittany went back to filling two plates with different types of foods. She had spaghetti, mashed potatoes, meatballs, chicken, and of course more breadsticks. Santana watched her eagerly, but patiently, and munched on the solitary box of breadsticks she held in her lap.

After they ate, and cleaned up the blanket, Brittany and Santana laid next to each other, backs on the ground, hands laced between them. Santana ran her thumb across the inside of Brittany's wrist and smiled every time it made her shiver. The sky had gone dark, a few of Brittany's electric lamps giving them enough light to see each other. Blanketed by the trees, the stars were no help.

"Are you happy about the Cheerio's?" Brittany asked, rolling onto her side. She took Santana's hand and wrapped it around her back, resting on her now-free hand, elbow against the ground. Santana followed onto her side so they were facing each other, about a foot apart. She brushed her fingertips over Brittany's shoulder blade and thought about it.

"Sort of," she admitted. It felt good to know that they were going to still retain some popularity. She told Brittany so.

"Is that all that matters, though?" Brittany asked. She wasn't trying to be mean, but was genuinely curious. She was comfortable enough in glee club without Cheerio's.

Santana shrugged, "No, I guess not. I love glee, but I'm so used to having an image. I can't really just forget about it."

"Is that why you don't want to come out," Brittany asked bluntly.

Santana tensed up but pushed through it. There was no one there to hear her. No one but Brittany. "Sort of. It's just like, I don't care what people think of me. But I don't want them to hate me either. This," she tightened her fingers on Brittany's back, "is a part of me. A part of me that I'm afraid of. I don't want anyone to have any leverage over me. And I don't want anyone to use it against me." She smiled hesitantly, "Or against you."

"I understand," she slid a few strands of hair behind Santana's ear with her other hand. She traced down the sheer material of her tank-top and rested it against her hip, squeezing gently. "We've seen Kurt go through it with Karofsky, even though Karofsky was just too scared to admit he was just as gay, but we rallied behind him, and everyone will do that for you."

"Everyone hates me," Santana said plainly.

Brittany shook her head, "No they don't." Santana opened her mouth to protest but she continued, "They don't. We're a family. The glee kids are lame a lot of the time. But no matter who's having a problem, we have each other's backs. And you'll have me. You'll always have me."

Santana pulled Brittany closer and scooted forward. Their bare knees brushed together and she smiled. The tiny connection lit her up. Her left hand came down and gripped Brittany's thigh, pulling her that much closer, leg overlapping her own. Brittany was on top of her again. Her fingers slid around the soft skin on her thigh under her dress, drawing useless hearts she hoped Brittany couldn't distinguish. Brittany's bangs hung loosely, sweeping across Santana's forehead—she could smell the kiwi shampoo. Her nose scrunched up at the sensation and she dragged it across Brittany's cheek, breathing in deeply. Santana tilted her head to the side and she pressed her lips softly against Brittany's neck. One, two, and then the third she opened her mouth letting her tongue freely taste the delicious skin. She could feel Brittany's pulse hammering against her upper cheek and sucked harder, willing it to speed up. When it did, she could hear a guttural moan escape from her own throat. Brittany's hands were everywhere: behind her kneecap, forcing her closer, under her shirt, scratching desperately against her stomach, gripping her neck like she was afraid to let go.

Santana dragged her tongue up the side of Brittany's neck and settled under her ear, biting and sucking the delicate skin there.

"San," Brittany breathily sighed. It fueled the fire growing steadily in the pit of her stomach. Santana closed her lips around Brittany's ear lobe and tugged it down gently. Brittany moaned this time, pushing her hips up into Santana's.

Santana stopped what she was doing almost instantly, "Not yet."

Brittany looked confused, "Why not?"

"What else do you have planned tonight, B?" She knew the answer and hoped Brittany did too. Everything had checked out except one last thing.

Brittany flashed a mega-watt smile. _'She knew.' _She climbed to her knees and bent forward one last time to kiss Santana fully on the lips. She stood up and walked over to her car, leaned through the window and turned twisted the key in the ignition. She grabbed the CD she made that day, labeled with the date and time, and popped it into the CD player. The low rising music started and flowed through the speakers softly. She twisted the volume dial until it was loud enough to hear outside of the car. Brittany twisted around on the balls of her feet and gracefully walked back over to Santana, who was still on the ground.

She stretched out her hand and asked, "Dance with me?"

Santana took Brittany's hand and let herself be pulled up. Brittany had planned their perfect date, the perfect date Santana described years earlier. Brittany twirled her once, and pulled Santana in close. Their palms met, held a little higher than their shoulders, and Brittany's other hand was firmly around her waist. She could feel Brittany's legs brushing against hers as they twisted in slow circles.

_No one understands me  
>Quite like you do<br>Through all of the shadowy corners of me_

Santana tightened the arm she had around Brittany's neck and pulled her closer. She rested her head in the crook of Brittany's neck and shut her eyes.

"There's no stars," she whispered quietly.

"We don't need them," Brittany replied and turned them again.

"It's already perfect enough," Santana kissed her neck tenderly and let herself be lulled by the music and gentle rocking of Brittany's arms.

_All of the while I never knew  
>All of the while<br>All of the while, it was you_

* * *

><p>Lima was dark. The car was only lit up by the occasional streetlamp and the purple radio display. Her eyes having long adjusted to the dark, Brittany watched Santana drive. She had offered to drive home, and Brittany was glad for the opportunity to just look at her. Every few minutes Santana would glance over, smile, and grip her hand tighter. She never wanted to miss that smile.<p>

There weren't any lights on in Brittany's house when they pulled up into the driveway. Her parents were gone and her sister was at a friend's. They both got out of the car and walked up the front walk, hands still clasped in between them. When they got to the door, Brittany pulled Santana back before she could open it. She leaned down and kissed Santana, hands grasping at her neck, head tilted to the side.

Santana pulled back, "Let's go inside, okay?"

Brittany produced a key from one of the pockets at her waist and let them into the house. She took the lead and pulled Santana up the stairs evenly. Her instincts were to rush, but she ignored them and walked calmly to her door.

When they walked in, Brittany dropped Santana's hand and slinked over to the bed. She perched on the edge and watched Santana come to a confident stand in front of her. Brittany played with the loops of Santana's shorts with her right hand and untied the drawstring waist of her own dress. Santana stared down at her and ran both hands down from Brittany's shoulders to her elbows, and then back up.

Brittany reached behind Santana and pulled her down onto her lap. She sat back further and both of Santana's knees rested on the bed, straddling her waist. Santana pushed a hand through her own hair, flipping it backwards and Brittany bit her lip nervously. The palms of both of her hands flowed along Santana's smooth thighs, hooking them behind. She laid back and pulled Santana along with her.

Santana dropped her head lower, "What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me," Brittany asked.

Looking at her through hooded eyelids, Santana leaned down and kissed her hard. It was like she was trying to pull all of the air from her lungs and Brittany clenched Santana's legs tighter. When she broke away, Santana locked their eyes, "I love you."

Brittany surged forward and reclaimed her mouth. She pushed against Santana's leg with her own, flipping them over. Her hips were between Santana's legs, and she licked Santana's lips, parting them. Santana's tongue came out to meet hers and they slid against each other hungrily, pulling and clashing together. Santana's hands fisted the front of her dress and tugged her closer.

Brittany reached down between their bodies and popped the button on Santana's shorts. Her fingers tickled the skin beneath and Santana squirmed. She grinned and Santana retaliated by biting her lip. Before she could complain, Santana had already sucked it into her mouth and massaged it with her tongue. She detached their lips to pull Santana's shorts down her legs and flung them behind her somewhere. She kissed her way back up her legs and licked at her hip bone. Santana moaned and tugged at her dress again.

"Off," she demanded huskily and pulled her back for another kiss. Brittany struggled to pull it over her head with Santana furiously attacking her mouth and her neck. When it was off, she put her hands under Santana's waist and hoisted her up, moving one hand to rip the shirt off of her torso.

Brittany planted tiny, open-mouth kisses to her stomach and Santana's hands pulled her hair out of its bun. She felt her hair fall down around her face and let it barely run across Santana's chest as she kissed up between her breasts and back to her mouth. Santana's hands dancing across her lower back made a heat rise in the deepest parts of her stomach. She was so lost in feeling Santana. It almost felt like the first time she was truly allowed to feel anything. Her hands drifted down to Santana's hips again and she pulled them together, meeting in the middle. She grinded down and Santana arched up. Brittany gasped and Santana moaned. Their noises echoed together through the quiet room.

Santana's fingers skirted around the bottom edge of Brittany's bra and unclasped it, casting it aside. Brittany urged Santana upward with one hand and used the other to remove her lacy black bra, tossing it onto the floor. Brittany kissed under Santana's chin and forced their bodies together, so the swell of their breasts pushed together. The heat started to wind up further and sink lower between Brittany's legs.

"Britt," Santana sighed above her head and she leaned down to bring their faces together again, kissing Brittany firmly. The blanketing warmth that was Brittany clouded her thoughts. There was nothing to think about other than her. It didn't matter if she felt good, if they had sex, if they ended up together in the end. Everything was Brittany and for the moment, she was all that mattered.

They both discarded their final pieces of clothing and laid tangled together. Brittany's hand toyed with the edge of her hip and slid in every few seconds, teasingly closer to where she wanted her most.

"Please," she didn't remember asking her brain to beg, but there it was and Brittany took the cue. It wouldn't take much, but when Brittany finally pushed inside of her, she never wanted it to end. Her hips bucked up to match Brittany blow for blow. She felt lost. Sex wasn't special, but she knew it wasn't just sex anymore. This was something entirely new. For the first time it really meant something and Santana suddenly wished she would have told Brittany she loved her sooner. For both of them.

"Santana," Brittany was pushing her hips down against her own hand and she saw how painfully turned on she was. She loosened the grip she had on the sheets and brought her hand down to follow Brittany's lead and pushed into her. Brittany groaned and sped up her own movements. They rocked together in tandem, the backs of their hands hitting each other's every few strokes. Brittany kissed her again, panting into her open mouth. Their kisses were lazy, struggling to concentrate on everything at once. Santana felt herself starting to crash, and Brittany didn't seem far behind. Her body started to tremble and Santana focused only long enough to thrust into Brittany a few more definite times, and they came one after the other.

Brittany's head fell against Santana's chest that was heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She wouldn't have even tried if she didn't need to breathe. Passing out seemed like such a better option. But when Brittany kissed her skin lightly, she was grateful to still be conscious. They both removed their fingers and brushed them off against Brittany's sheets. Santana made a mental note to remind her to wash them the next day.

Brittany dropped to the bed beside her and slipped her leg in between both of Santana's, snuggling in close up to her side. Her hand laid gently across Santana's stomach and she scratched her nails lightly across it. Santana shut her eyes and focused on the feeling. She felt Brittany fidget and their sweat drenched legs slide together.

"Are you asleep?" Brittany whispered and burrowed her head into Santana's neck.

Santana reached her left hand up and nestled her fingers in Brittany's blonde hair, laying disarrayed around her shoulder. "No."

"Sing me something," Brittany requested sleepily.

"What do you want to hear?" She asked, and kissed Brittany's forehead. The sweet taste of Brittany's perfume mixed with the salty taste of sweat and Santana smiled lazily.

"Anything..." Brittany said.

Santana started to sing as she played with Brittany's hair gently:

_You can rest easy tonight_

_Everything is gonna be alright,_

_I promise_

_Go to sleep and dream of me tonight_

_Everything may not be perfect, but at least we tried_

Brittany pulled her tighter and sighed deeply. The air seemed still and peaceful, with only the sound of Santana's singing breaking the silence.

_So tonight, sweet dreams and sleep tight_

_I've been trying so hard, can't get you out of my mind_

_And if this is how it has to be, just promise you won't forget me_

_And I'll leave you with this lullaby tonight_

Santana grabbed the blanket and lifted them up gently so they could lay underneath it. She pulled it up around them and hugged Brittany closer to her body. Her voice strained as she moved, but she never stopped. She didn't stop singing until Brittany was snoring lightly against her chest. Only then did she let her own eyes drift shut and she stayed up a little bit longer, replaying the night in her head over and over again so she would never forget a single detail.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I didn't want to write it, but I did. For you. Hope it was bearable! It took me longer to write that one scene than it did to write the entire rest of the chapter. Review! I have a midterm tomorrow and it'd be nice to get some reviews to keep me smiling through the day :) Next chapter will be Quinn's return (aka Punk Quinn, my favorite of Quinn's multiple personalities ;)

Thanks for reading!

Oh, btw, the two songs in this are "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg-when they're dancing and "Lullaby" by Chase Coy-when Santana sings. And true story, Lullaby was playing when I wrote that final scene. I don't know if you guys ever notice but most of my titles (aside from the obvious ones like "i want you" and "you better not pout") are song lyrics. What I'm sure you don't know is that they are always whatever song is playing when I finish the chapter. (unless you stalk me, if so come say hi) Thanks for reading again! :)


	34. i'm not so sure who i am

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Quinn-centric. There's a Brittana scene, but everything is kind of around Quinn in this chapter. Also, everyone's kind of a dick to each other-aside from Brittany and Santana. So, yeah, the return of Quinn. Have fun.  
><strong>

**thetamarine-Thanks! I tried really hard haha And Punk Quinn was used too little. They should have kept her around for at least...3 more episodes.  
><strong>

**Minerva McBadass- Thanks alot! I think that midterm went well haha :P I had such a fun time writing the date. I like writing the dates cause I feel like I get to use as much cheesiness a I can without fault.  
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**Breakdown6-Damn, don't stalk me, come be friends. That date was so fun, omg, I want it too haha. It's okay, you can tell me if I'm boring, I won't take it personally, maybe. I needed to give her more of a reason other than, oh my life is so bad, maybe hair dye and a cut will make everything better. Uhm, yeah, cause Brittany's the only person getting distracted by Santana's sexiness, uhm...yeah...that's uhm accurate. I mean I didn't forget Mercedes sang in River Deep Mountain High or anything. Or that Rachel sang in We Found Love. Yup, not at all distracting :) I hope this chapter is good though, I mean I spoiled with fluff last chapter and everyone is so angsty in this one. Thanks for the review, hope you enjoy this one :)  
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**Kendojin- Glad I could serve some entertainment value! Don't judge me if I've used that bear-analogy to describe one of my friends okay, minus the subtle sexual innuendo. 'Too cheesy?' No, such, thing haha. I'm glad the smut wasn't horrible, that was my first attempt at it. I tried to imply subtly that Santana didn't want to camp, frowning at the tent, complaining, but I guess it was too subtle lol I don't know, I mean I always give each couple either smut or fluff, maybe I'll make everyone miserable for a while ;) Yeah, the show did a FANTASTIC job with Finn's coming out, sorry I mean Santana's coming out. Trust me, I could smash my face against the keyboard and write a better coming out story than that. I'll try my best :) **

**Musicfutbolfan6- Thanks! I had a blast writing Quinn, so I hope you enjoy :)  
><strong>

**JohnDo-When I re-read Brittany driving past her house I chuckled to myself. Which is bad I guess considering I wrote it. Oh well haha. Not much Faberry in this one, but a lot of Quinn. Hope you like it! Thanks for the review :)**

**gleeknumber1-Thanks so much! I don't need a lot of reviews, the ones I get are good enough haha. As long as theres people to read it, I'll keep writing. Thanks again!**

**katja134- Thanks a lot! Such kind words haha.  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>'<em>I've been on more planes in three months that I have in my whole life,'<em> Quinn thought, staring into the faded pages of some shitty magazine she found in the netting on the back of the seat in front of her. She could feel the constant glare of the old woman sitting next to her; it hadn't stopped the entire flight. But even though she was getting used to the constant staring, _'you can't really have bright pink hair without it,'_ this uptight bitch was pissing her off. She scowled and dropped the magazine to the tray in front of her.

"Excuse me," she turned to the auburn-haired elderly woman, "Do you have a problem?"

The lady cleared her throat, "Um, no I don't suppose I do."

"_You don't suppose you do?_ Alright well how about you keep your eyes to your fucking self then? Sound good?"

She cleared her throat and turned her head away. She spoke irritatingly into the ear of the man Quinn assumed was her disinterested husband. He looked at her oddly and she winked at him seductively. The woman saw her and glared. Quinn smirked back and took her headphones out of the faded brown messenger bag at her feet and popped them in. She twisted the volume on her iPod up considerably and let her eyes fall shut.

She felt a tapping on her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, the flight attendant was smiling down at her sweetly. She continued to talk, but Quinn couldn't hear her, letting the music blare unheeded. Her mouth stopped moving and the stewardess looked at her expectantly. She scowled again and shook her head no, in case the woman didn't understand the implication. With a frown, she turned and walked away.

Quinn was irritated. Her aunt had finally convinced her to go home, saying that she couldn't let Quinn stay there and throw her life away. As if Lima was the place to go to restart her life. New Mexico was her place to start over, and she had hoped to stay a lot longer—permanently, but her aunt wouldn't let that happen.

"_Quinn, honey, you need to go home. Lima is your home," Leslie insisted, rubbing her back. Leslie looked a lot like her mother, if Judy had let her roots grow out and accepted her aging weight-gain. Quinn admired her attitude and sometimes even wished she could've been the one to raise her. _

"_That place isn't my home. Lima is where everything went wrong for me. I want to stay here with you," Quinn wasn't begging. At least not in a way she could tell. _

"_This place isn't good for you. I mean look at yourself," she waved over Quinn's appearance. Sure she had been wearing a lot of blacks and let her hair get a little greasy every now and then, but that didn't mean where she was had an influence over her. She was just sick of cheerleader Quinn Fabray, of Christian Quinn Fabray, of ex-girlfriend of Finn Hudson Quinn Fabray, and especially ex-girlfriend of Rachel Berry Quinn Fabray. That's all anyone ever saw her as, and she didn't want it anymore._

_Quinn stormed out of the room and started packing her bags in the guest bedroom. Leslie followed her in. _

"_This place isn't bad for me," she yelled, "Lima is bad for me. Coach Sylvester is bad for me. __**Beth **__is bad for me. I didn't tell you that did I? Shelby moved back. I saw her in the airport the day I left, stupid bitch," she packed a little more fervently. Her aunt walked up behind her and put both arms around her chest when she started heaving in sobs. She wanted to struggle so bad against the embrace, but let herself instead sink into it._

"_Go home honey." She squeezed tighter against Quinn's back. "You needed time. That's why you came here. Now you've had it and its time to face your problems. Everything will be alright. You're too strong to let anything break you down again."_

"_Whatever," Quinn had enough. This was supposed to be her safe-haven and instead she was being thrown back into the lion's den by the one person she wanted to protect her. She forcefully tore away from her aunt's arms and slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her suitcase. _

"_Quinn…" she heard Leslie say timidly, but she had already grabbed her return ticket and was headed out the door. _

The stewardess came back and started talking again. Right then, _The Only Exception_ started streaming through her earphones and it didn't take long for her to rip them out. Quinn made a mental note to delete that song when she got home.

"—complaining about the music, and it we would greatly appreciate it if you—"

"What?" Quinn asked rudely.

"Your music. Is there any way it can be turned down, so everyone can enjoy their flight? I would greatly appreciate it," the woman smiled again.

"Nope, sorry, the volumes broken and it has to play that loud," Quinn lied, smirking deviously. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she couldn't tell if the flight attendant, _Peggy_ as Quinn read from her name tag for the first time, understood.

Peggy coughed, "Well, um, I guess that's, alright I understand. Sorry to disturb you." She seemed new, and Quinn knew that would give her all the more pleasure in messing with her further.

When Peggy started to walk away, Quinn stuck her grungy black converse shoe out into the aisle way and the woman tripped, tumbling to the ground.

Her, and a few other people around her, laughed as Peggy climbed to her feet, face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, excuse me. I guess I'm," she looked at Quinn nervously, "just very clumsy." Quinn quirked her eyebrow and nodded.

"Seems that way," she growled and put her headphones back in. The song had changed and she shifted her chair back and shut her eyes again. _'Lima here I come.'_

xx

She hadn't called anyone to meet her at the airport. She didn't want to see anyone anyway. Who was she going to call? _'Santana?'_ Quinn laughed thinking of how fun that conversation was going to be. Brittany might've been the best option, but she knew it was a task to ask Brittany to get all the way to Dayton without anyone's help. And if the girl wouldn't have asked Santana, her next bet would've been Rachel. _'Rachel,_' the name felt disgusting on her tongue. She knew she was going to have to go back to nicknames, even when thinking about her. _'Manhands,'_ she smirked, _'Yeah, that'll do.'_

Quinn stood against the outside wall of the airport and watched cars stream by. She could feel the tattered edges of her grey skirt getting caught against the rough siding when she reached into her purse and grabbed the half-empty pack of cigarettes. A new habit, picked up after hanging out with a few of her cousins. They had taken her shopping for new clothes, new makeup, and a new life style. Quinn was just along for the ride.

The cigarette slipped into her mouth and she fished around for her lighter, struggling to find it. She grunted in frustration and dropped the bag to the ground. She held the cigarette between the two fingers in her right hand and rested her head back against the wall.

"Need a light?" A hoarsely sweet voice asked her from a few feet away. Quinn opened one eye and saw a short, skinny brunette in tattered jeans and skin-tight mesh tank-top staring at her. Quinn could see her silky black bra through the barely-there material and felt her eyes widen. It was a new feeling, when it came to girls she had only ever been attracted to one person, _'manhands,'_ but something about the way this stranger was looking at her was interesting, and irritating.

"I have a light," Quinn said venomously. She forced herself to remember she was back on her turf, and it was possible for people to know who she was here.

The girl smirked, "Doesn't seem like it." She walked closer and offered her lighter up towards Quinn's face. "Go ahead."

The proximity was putting her a tiny bit on edge, so Quinn figured the sooner she agreed, the sooner whoever this girl was would leave. She raised the cigarette to her lips and leaned forward to the lighter. Instinctively, her head twisted to the side and she couldn't help but stare a little at her face as the girl concentrated on her lips. The first drag of smoke filled her lungs deliciously and she shut her eyes and hummed.

"Thanks," she pulled away and blew out the stream out smoke to the side.

"Any time," the girl smirked again. Quinn's heartbeat stuttered; she was flirting and doing so shamelessly. She was glad her sunglasses hid her reactions and hoped her cheeks would fight off the redness and hold their own.

"Have a name?" Quinn asked, taking another drag off the cigarette. Her head started feeling light and she struggled to stay still.

"I do," the girl said, "I'm a little hurt you don't know it though. I know yours."

All of the blood drained from her face. _'Of course she knows me.'_ Of all of the people to run into an hour away out of Lima, it had to be someone who knew her name.

"Oh yeah?" Quinn challenged. She tried to square her shoulders and put a little more effort in her posture, but she had gone such a long time without caring, it was hard to start again.

"Quinn Fabray," she said, "who wouldn't know our head-cheerleader."

"So you go to McKinley," Quinn reasoned. _'Even better,'_ she thought miserably.

"Senior this year, same as you," she put a hand on the wall next to Quinn's head, "I'm Kara. My friends call me 'the Mack.'"

Quinn chuckled, "Cute. Guess I'll be calling you Kara then, seeing as we aren't friends." Kara seemed to move uncomfortably closer without trying.

"Or I could teach you the meaning of that nickname," she whispered lowly, "I think I'd like to be your _friend."_

Quinn pushed her away by her shoulder, and scowled, "What do you think you're doing?"

Kara shrugged, unaffected and still smirking, "Just a suggestion."

"I'm not into that," Quinn asserted. Her hands were shaking and she dropped the cigarette and put it out with her foot, just so she had something to do.

"The way you were checking me out a few minutes ago makes me think a little differently," Kara chuckled and leaned closer, "C'mon _Quinnie, _no one's gonna tell. We'll just have a little fun."

Kara was definitely attractive. With a nickname like 'the Mack,' Quinn knew she might get a little entertainment out of her. She remembered the stupid mantra she shoved back in her cousins faces a couple weeks ago, _'Everything once.'_ And she couldn't remember having a random hookup with some slutty girl at the airport, so it was definitely something new to try. It might even get her mind off of the bullshit she knew she was coming back to when she got home.

"What the hell," Quinn smirked back and picked up her bags, "Got a car?"

"Right this way babe," Kara motioned with her arm for Quinn to follow her and they started walking towards the airport car park. Within a few minutes, Kara had Quinn pinned to the side of her rusted black sedan and was whispering into her ear, "Any chance you have one of those Cheerio's uniforms in those bags?"

Quinn grinned, "Maybe another time." She fisted the brown locks of hair and pulled Kara's head out of her line of sight. It was going to work a lot better if she couldn't see her face.

* * *

><p>Brittany screamed and tried her best to dodge the impending blow. Her foot got caught in a hole in the bright green lawn and she tumbled to the ground. She could feel the wetness on her cheek and how it dripped further down as her face shifted uncomfortably from the fall. Suddenly the blinding sun was blocked out from overhead and someone was crouching down around her waist.<p>

"B, you good?" Santana asked with a cheeky smile on her face. She had a leg on either side of her waist and the strings on the bottom of her cut-off shorts tickled Brittany's bare stomach.

"I twisted my ankle," she complained through a laugh.

Santana twisted to the left and looked down to her ankle. Brittany took the opportunity and crashed the medium-sized water balloon she had in her left hand into the front of Santana's bikini covered chest. Santana screamed and leapt off of her.

"I knew you weren't hurt!" She climbed to her feet and kicked her in the side barely enough for Brittany to feel it.

Grinning, Brittany sat up and rubbed her ankle, "I am hurt. But that was such an easy shot."

Santana brought her hand to her face and bit the side of the pink water balloon so a tiny stream of water flowed out. She walked over to Brittany, who sat there confused, and squeezed it so it popped and splashed on Brittany's head. Santana smirked, "So was that."

Looking down at her shorts, Brittany laughed, "It looks like I peed myself."

Santana sat down next to her, "Did you?" Her tone was too playful and Brittany squinted.

"No," she said warily.

Before she knew it, Santana had her tackled backwards back onto the ground and was tickling her sides, "Let's fix that then."

"Santana! Stop," she screeched, thrashing to the sides trying to throw her off. Santana continued to tickle her and even was so daring as to tickle the insides of her thighs. It was weird considering they were in her front yard and anyone really could have seen them.

Brittany got enough leverage to roll them over so she was now straddling Santana's thighs and slapping her hands away that continued to pinch and scratch lightly at her sides. Santana eventually stopped and just gazed up at her. The playfulness was gone and replaced by something else entirely. When Brittany saw how flushed Santana's cheeks were, she grinned. "Get a little more than you bargained for, San?"

Santana shrugged with another smirk on her face, "Maybe I planned it."

"I doubt that," Brittany whispered and rocked her hips. Santana gasped and her eyes widened comically.

"B," Santana warned. She looked panicked and Brittany ran a comforting hand over her cheek.

"I know," she rolled off and laid down next to Santana. "I don't know if I want to give my neighbors a show anyway."

Santana laughed, "Only if we charged admission." Brittany smiled and reached between them to take Santana's hand.

"Puck would be the first in line," she said knowingly. She saw Santana scowl out of the corner of her eye.

"He's not getting within twenty feet out you naked for the rest of our lives," Santana protested. Brittany smiled at how protective and somewhat jealous she sounded.

"Someone should break that news to him," she laughed again and started tracing the inside of Santana's palms with her fingertips.

Santana sighed, "That feels so good." Brittany felt like someone was kicking her stomach, in a good way.

Someone cleared their throat behind them and Brittany felt Santana jump away, rolling on to her stomach. When Brittany turned over she saw her dad standing there, looking distractedly into his wallet. She knew he was just trying to play off what he had just seen.

"Chrissy wants ice cream," Tony called over to them, "Your mom and I were going to take her and Jason, do you two want to go with us?"

"Who's Jason?" she heard Santana ask with a smile.

"Her uhm," Tony started awkwardly, looking between them, "her boyfriend I guess."

Santana's airy laugh filled the front yard, "She's nine. How does she have a boyfriend?"

Tony shrugged with a kind smile, "Dunno. Girl moves fast I guess."

Brittany looked at him surprisingly, "Dad!" Santana laughed again.

"What honey? I mean you two," he pointed at the both of them, "had boyfriends then didn't you? I mean Santana did right?"

She could tell Santana wanted to scowl or curse at him but Brittany said something before she had the chance, "So did I."

"Mike right?" Tony scratched his head, "I think I remember taking you two to the movies."

Brittany nodded with a side-glance to Santana who had started ripping grass out of the ground. They were all quiet and Tony looked like he wanted to head back into the house.

"So, ice cream?" He asked unsurely.

Brittany looked at Santana and questioned her with her eyes. Santana only shrugged so Brittany assumed she was okay with it and gave her dad a thumbs up. He smiled at the two of them and walked back into the house.

No sooner than he was inside was Santana across the tiny distance and had her lips on Brittany's securely. Brittany gripped at her hair and kissed back just as powerfully. Santana's tongue pulled at hers and sort of demanded she kiss back. Brittany gently pushed her back and stared up into eyes hovering over her, "What?"

"You're mine, okay?" Santana asked boldly.

Brittany chuckled, "I know that."

"Do you?"

Brittany pushed her back again and sat up so they were both seated next to each other. They were on opposite sides and their knees met at the middle. "What's wrong?"

Santana shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just," she pulled at a few blades of grass, "we haven't put a name on this yet."

Brittany looked around, "On what? The grass?"

Santana laughed, "No, on _us."_

"Yes we have," Brittany said factually, "I'm Brittany. You're Santana."

Santana shook her head again, "On us together."

"Oh," Brittany said, "you mean like how we're dating now."

Santana's face lit up and Brittany couldn't help but smile back. "We are?"

Brittany was confused. She thought they were already together. After they had both continuously told each other the loved each other, did that mean they were dating? Maybe it didn't. Brittany started to panic.

"Wait, do you want to see other people again or something?" Brittany asked nervously.

Santana took her hands, "No, Brittany. I don't. We just haven't really talked about what we are."

Brittany gained a little confidence from seeing how unsure Santana was. It was weird that sometimes she had to be the strong one. She was used to Santana doing that for both of them. Maybe Santana needed her to take this step, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Santana started shaking and it put Brittany on edge. She was reading all the signals wrong. _'She doesn't want to date me,'_ it was the only explanation for why they hadn't talked about it. _'Too much too fast,'_ she thought fearfully.

"Yes, if you want to be mine," Santana startled her. She hadn't expected her voice to be so firm while she was still trembling. When she finally realized what she had said, Brittany leapt forward back into her arms.

"Of course I want to be yours silly," Brittany laughed, "that's why I asked you."

They heard a loud pattering of footsteps behind them and separated again to see Tony, Anna, and Chrissy walking out of the front door towards the car. Anna had two t-shirts in her hand and tossed them towards Brittany and Santana.

"C'mon girls," she said cheerfully. Santana and Brittany pulled the clothes over their heads and walked to the car together. Brittany had to fight every impulse to slip her hand into _'her girlfriend's'_ hand on the way there.

xx

Of course there were screaming children. It was two o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday in July. Santana scowled beneath the sunglasses Anna had passed back to her in the car twenty minutes earlier. Her chocolate ice cream melted down the side of the waffle cone and dripped onto her hand. She was sick of the ice cream, sick of the kids, and even more sick of Tony's constant jokes about how she was so _vanilla_ for getting regular chocolate ice cream. He was a sweet guy, but even the fact that he produced her beautiful girlfriend could make up for his complete lack of a funny bone. _'Girlfriend,'_ she thought happily. She wished she could say it out loud over and over again. She probably would when she got home and was in the safety of her own bedroom. There was a good chance Brittany would be there anyway and that made the idea even more amazing.

Brittany nudged her shoulder and pointed across the patio discretely. She tried to follow her finger and once she saw through the waves of people, she saw two shadows slipping behind the building. Santana hadn't seen a lot, but one of them had dark brown hair very similar to Rachel. However, the other person—the girl—had clearly not been Finn Hudson. Unless Finn had the ridiculous impulse to dye his hair bright pink during the middle of the summer, shrunk a few inches and lost a lot of pounds. Confused, she looked at Brittany and whispered, "What?"

Brittany looked just as confused as she felt, but Santana had an overwhelming feeling she knew something she didn't. There was something alarming Brittany and she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Was that Berry?" Santana asked when Brittany hadn't answered her. Brittany shrugged and dropped her banana split to the wooden table in front of them.

"We're gonna go for a walk," she suddenly said and Brittany tugged Santana up from her seat.

Anna and Tony exchanged a confused look and then Anna said, "Alright, well be back soon."

"We will," Brittany smiled and led Santana away, behind the building.

Santana pulled her arm loose and looked at Brittany, "What's going on?"

They stopped in their tracks, now alone, and Brittany spoke softly, "I need to tell you something."

Her hands fidgeted and Santana shifted her weight uneasily, "Okay."

"I knew Quinn left," Brittany admitted. She looked like she expected Santana to yell, but she was more confused than she was mad. They could hear giggling from the other side of the building and Santana kept her mouth shut expecting Brittany to say more.

When she didn't Santana asked, "And?"

"She told me not to tell you," Brittany said quietly, "So I can't."

"What does this have to do with Berry," Santana nodded to the back of the building.

"You'll see," Brittany grabbed her hand and pulled them along to the back of the ice cream shop. When they got there, Santana saw the short brunette pushing the pink-haired girl up against the wall, attacking her neck furiously. The taller girl moaned and Santana cleared her throat uncomfortably.

When they broke apart, Santana realized the smaller girl was not Rachel, but a girl she recognized from school. She went around with a pack of disgusting girls rightfully calling themselves, 'The Skanks.' What she was even more surprised to realize was that she did know the pink-haired girl. It was Quinn.

"Quinn?" She asked strangely. It was definitely the Quinn Fabray smirk, she would recognize it for the rest of her life.

"Santana," her voice was much throatier and less nasally than she remembered. "Brittany," Quinn nodded towards Brittany, "do you know Kara?"

Kara leaned up against the wall next to Quinn and smirked, "Santana Lopez, I know you. Can't say as much for blondie though."

Brittany moved closer to Santana and stared at Quinn in concern, "When did you get back?"

Quinn shrugged, "A couple days ago." Santana couldn't force her mouth to form any words.

"We thought it was you and uhm," she looked at Santana who shook her head, "someone else."

"Nope," Santana expected to hear some kind of hurt in her voice, but couldn't find any. It was unnerving to see her friend so obviously broken.

Not knowing what else to say, Santana chose to go back to her default bitchiness, "Cute hair Strawberry Shortcake."

Quinn laughed gruffly, "Doing something for ya?" Brittany squeezed her fingers and Santana felt panicked.

"What the hell are you talking about," she yelled angrily. She hoped Quinn wasn't going to reveal her secret to one of the most scummy girls at school.

"If you want to be more discreet," Kara suggested, "You might want to drop blondie's hand."

Santana glanced down and saw Brittany's hand clenched tight around her own. She dropped it, like she had been burned. She glared heatedly at Kara, "Call her blondie again and I'll knock your fucking teeth out."

"Ouch, S, calm down a bit," Quinn chuckled listlessly, "No need to get so defensive. God knows _we _aren't going tell anyone."

"Where'd you go?" Santana asked Quinn hurriedly, "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

Quinn reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, she handed one to Kara and lit her own. After blowing out the first puff of smoke she asked, "Does it matter?"

Santana laughed spitefully, "Yeah it kinda does, Q. I thought we were friends."

"I don't need friends," Quinn spat, "At least I don't need you anymore. I have new friends."

"Quinn," Brittany tried sadly, but Quinn had already pushed off of the wall and was walking away.

Kara followed her and turned around to yell mockingly, "Hey Lopez, give me a call if you ever get bored of her," she motioned at Brittany and then winked, "I have a thing for cheerleaders."

The anger burst through her feet as she ran hastily at Kara, tackling her to the ground when she made contact. They struggled against each other and Santana got a punch or two in before Quinn had her pulled back and thrown to the ground. When she looked up at her, she saw how scared and obviously distraught Quinn was. _ 'At least she's still in there,'_ Santana thought climbing to her feet. She stood over Kara and scowled, "Get the hell out of here you stupid bitch."

Kara scrambled to her feet and walked away, giving Santana the finger as she went. When Santana made a move at her again, Quinn grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.

"What the fuck, Santana?" she screamed, shoving her backwards.

Santana shoved her back, "Me? What the fuck about you? What is this," she snapped one of the straps of Quinn's dark grey tank-top and Quinn slapped her hand.

"This is me," she waved down displaying her appearance, "this is who I am."

Brittany came up beside Santana and frowned, "No it isn't, Q."

"How do you know?" Quinn yelled, more in Santana's face than in Brittany's.

"Cause I've known you since we were four. You're miserable, I get that. Berry kicked your ass to the curb," Quinn slapped her swiftly across the face. Santana bit her lip and ignored the urge to tackle Quinn to the ground like she had just done to Kara.

"You don't know anything about that," she walked away and picked up her purse from the ground where it had laid scattered. She pulled all of the strewn items together and shoved them haphazardly into the bag. When she stood back to her feet, she glared at them, "You know not everyone's problems are about who they're going to screw next. Not everything that goes on in my life revolves around my next fuck, not like you two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana asked curtly.

Quinn smirked, "It means for Brittany's sake I hope you don't get bored of her."

It felt like someone had knocked her off her feet, pulled her back up, and then punched her in the face. Santana didn't want to even look at Brittany to see how harshly the blow had landed. She knew it wasn't true, and she was even sure Quinn knew it wasn't true, but that didn't take away how hurtful and malicious it sounded. For the first time, Santana was really worried about Quinn. Cause whoever that person in front of her was, it wasn't her best friend.

"Later," Quinn said disinterestedly and turned her back, walking away.

Brittany must've sensed her hesitance, because she put on hand on her arm and barely pulled her along.

"C'mon S, let's just go home." Santana nodded and followed Brittany.

She knew they were going to have to do something about Quinn. But pushing the Rachel-subject seemed to work in the opposite way. Santana figured there was something much bigger going on and the first step was figuring it out.

* * *

><p>"Stop," she said briefly to herself. Mostly to her hands. They hadn't stopped shaking since Rachel got in the car after Santana called her a couple minutes before. Her knuckles were white from squeezing the steering wheel so tightly. It didn't make sense, Santana hated her. So why was she calling in the middle of the night and demanding she show up in the park?<p>

When Rachel pulled into the parking spot, next to Santana's car, and Puck's truck, she thought for the first time that it might have something to do with Quinn. After Brittany had relayed the information of her departure a couple weeks before, she couldn't stop thinking about the girl. Rachel had to have been the reason she left, and it killed her. She still cared about Quinn, a lot, but that didn't change any of the shit she had put her through since Christmas.

Rachel got out of the car and walked into the dimly lit park. She was happy for the summer weather and that she didn't need to bother with a coat, but still rubbed her arms persistently, searching for a different kind of warmth.

Deep into the park, on a crumbling wooden bench, she saw three figures sitting and talking in hushed voices. She wanted to laugh, it's not like anyone could of heard them out there, but when she got the sinking feeling it could have been her they were hiding something from, her throat closed up.

As she walked closer she started to overhear Puck's voice, "—I just don't know what you want me to do about. She has barely looked at me the last few months, let alone told me what's going on in her life."

Santana snapped back at him, "We're friends Puck, you're supposed to care about her."

Brittany was busy rubbing Santana's back and seemed to be ignoring their conversation. Rachel assumed that's why she was the first one to see her approaching. She saw her nudge Santana and point over her shoulders towards her.

"Berry," Santana sat up straighter and called her over, "where've you been?"

She sat down on the opposite side of the bench next to Puck, "I've just been um," she looked at all of their faces, "with, uh, with Finn."

"Great," Santana spat, "look I'm not going to sugar coat this for you or anything, we just wanted to tell you Quinn's back."

Rachel didn't think Santana knew Brittany had told her Quinn was gone, "Gone? Where did she go?"

Puck laughed and Santana glared at him. "You don't have to play dumb," he said, "Brittany told us."

"Oh," Rachel looked at Brittany who smiled kindly, "when did she get back?"

They all shrugged. She wanted to be happy Quinn was back, but none of them seemed joyful so she resisted her impulses. "So why am I here?" Rachel asked strangely.

"She's um," Brittany started in a scared voice, "she's different."

"Different how?" Rachel laughed, "Did she get another haircut?" Puck laughed and Santana slapped his shoulder. She was sitting on the top of the table so she didn't have to reach far.

"It's not funny Puckerman," Santana scolded him and then turned to her, "Do you know those girls who go around school calling themselves 'The Skanks'?" Ignoring Puck's stifled laughter she nodded. "Those are her new best friends apparently. Imagine them, and then Quinn looking and acting just like them."

"So, she's stopped showering?" Rachel was confused. She was aware of 'the Skanks.' They were disgusting and had pretty much no ambition or shame. It was hard to picture Quinn being any part of them.

Brittany was smirking playfully, "Definitely seemed like it." Santana looked at her, shocked. "What I could smell her the second we got behind that building." Rachel saw Santana's eyes widen even more.

"What building?" She asked interested. It felt like she was missing out on a major part of the conversation when even Puck's face dropped.

Brittany continued, "The ice-cream shop, we saw her back there with some—"

"Some guy," Santana's voice drowned Brittany's out. Her face was reddening as she continued, "Some old guy. He was gross."

She nudged Brittany who sputtered out, "Y-yeah, some guy. He must've been like forty or something." Puck looked even sadder and pulled a flask from his hoodie pocket. Rachel scowled at him disapprovingly. His truck clearly indicated he was driving and she wanted to yell at him.

When she thought about Puck, she remembered he didn't know anything about her and Quinn. Immediately panicked, for Quinn's sake and none of her own, she cleared her throat and looked at Santana expectantly, "So, what does this have to do with me?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana hopped off of the picnic table and stood with her hands on her hips, "You know exactly what this has to do with you." Puck seemed confused, but didn't care enough to say anything about it. "But we think there has to be something more going on."

"And?" Santana rolled her eyes again and paced forward.

"Did she say anything to you? Something we could work from?"

Puck bounced the cap of his flask against the table and Brittany slapped it away when it came back up into the air. They smiled at each other and he turned to Santana, "Why would she have told _her_ anything? Quinn and Rachel aren't exactly B.F.F.'s."

Under her breath, she heard Brittany mutter, "With benefits." No one else seemed to hear her and Rachel threatened her with a look.

"She didn't tell me anything," Rachel admitted. She wished she had, but Quinn was good with secrets.

"Damn it," Santana said brusquely, "how the hell are we supposed to help her if we don't even know what's wrong."

Rachel tried to think of what it could be. Her first instinct would have been that it had to do with their break-up, but Santana had already dismissed the idea. Part of her was a little hurt that something could make Quinn even more upset than that. There had to be something else. Suddenly the light bulb flashed in her head when she remembered something chilling she had seen earlier that day.

"It's Shelby," Rachel blurted out.

"What?" They all said at once. Puck seemed to instantly care a lot more, Brittany looked confused, and Santana grimaced knowingly.

"I saw her at the grocery store today, with uh," she averted her eyes, "with Beth."

Puck rolled the name over his lips silently and shut his eyes. Rachel expected and saw him take another drink.

"Is she pretty?" Brittany asked innocently. Santana walked back over and leaned against the bench.

Rachel smiled, "She's gorgeous. Looks just like," she cleared her throat, "like Quinn I guess." She looked at Puck, "With your nose. Definitely." He smiled ruefully and tipped the flask back again.

"So Shelby's back and that means Quinn's fucking up her life again," Santana spat, "awesome. Why the fuck couldn't your stupid mother stay in New York."

Rachel's stomach churned, "Stop it. You can't blame this on her."

Santana laughed, "Really? And why not? She was supposed to leave, and take that baby with her."

"She's an adult; she can do whatever she wants. It's not Shelby's fault Quinn can't handle her own life."

Santana stiffened, "Maybe your mother should've taken you _and_ Beth away. Then Quinn wouldn't have any problems."

Rachel wanted to cry. She knew they weren't friends, but she thought at least Santana was warming up to her recently. Insulting her distant mother was a low blow, but using her and Quinn's destroyed relationship was even worse. It wasn't her fault they broke up, and she wished Santana would at least acknowledge that.

"Why are you such a bitch?" Rachel asked and stood up from the table.

Brittany called her name out sincerely and Puck followed her to her feet. The tears were pooling significantly in her eyes and she fought with herself to at least keep them in until she was far away from the table. She wasn't opposed to running, but figuring that would only give Santana further enjoyment, she just fast-walked out of the park. After fumbling with the lock, she stumbled into her car and slammed the door shut. The water streamed down her face and she ran her hands over her eyes willing them to stop.

* * *

><p>Making out in alleys seemed to be Kara's thing. She was persistent in getting Quinn behind this particular building though and if she hadn't of had her tongue down Kara's throat, she would've asked why a lot sooner. Kara bit her lip and she hissed annoyingly. Quinn pulled her head back and looked at her, "I thought I told you to stop biting me."<p>

Kara shrugged, "I like biting you." Quinn leaned back forward and sucked on her neck, scraping her teeth over the already purpled skin. If it was possible to give her a double-hickey, Quinn was going to try for it. "Besides, I hope you aren't that adverse to pain."

Quinn husked against her neck, "Why do you say that?" She hoped the girl wasn't about to suggest some kind of whips and chains scenario, because even in her current state, she was not okay with that.

Kara shoved her back and grabbed her arm, pulling her along. They went around until they stood in front of the glass window on the main street of Lima. Staring wide-eyed at the logo, _White Wizard Tattoo and Body Piercing,_ people brushed past them rudely.

"What are we doing here?" Quinn asked impatiently. She wasn't getting a tattoo. Dying her hair was enough of a statement. Tattoo's were a step she wasn't willing to take.

"Piercings Quinn," Kara tapped her nose with one finger, "You and me are getting matching ones."

"I don't do piercings," Quinn insisted, tugging her arm out of Kara's grasp.

"C'mon, you'd look totally hot with a nose ring." Kara looked at her own reflection in the glass window, "We'd both look hot with a nose ring actually."

"I'm not really..." Quinn started but was cut off when a voice she hadn't wanted to hear yelled her name from across the street.

"Quinn?"

Quinn didn't turn around. She knew who it was; she could see enough of the lengthy brown hair in the tattoo parlor's front window to figure it out-although her straight bangs were a new touch.

Kara turned around and snickered, "It's Berry. What does she want with you?"

Quinn shook her head, "So, nose piercings?" Anything sounded better than talking to _'Manhands.'_ She pulled a grinning Kara into the shop by the arm and smirked, "Maybe I'll get a tattoo too." She couldn't tell if Rachel was still on the other side of the street and wondered how many tattoos it would take to get rid of the lingering feeling on her back.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**** Surprise! New character! Just as an F.Y.I. this is not a new relationship, just remember Quinn's words at the beginning of the chapter, 'a random hookup.' She'll show up, maybe one more time though in a scene next chapter. I hope she didn't have another name other than 'The Mack' cause I really didn't wanna go back and look it up. Thanks for reading!**

**Review if you have a second :)  
><strong>


	35. i'll still have you

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Hiya! This is decently long and there are a lot of different scenes, most of which set up whats going to happen in the next few chapters. This is a combo of the first couple episodes but I combined them all into the first day of school. I start you off with Brittana and end you with Brittana. Already have the next two chapters plotted out, so I'll probably have another one up this weekend. I hope you like this one:) So here we go, Season 3!  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Everyone always seemed to hate the first day of school. Not Brittany; she loved getting to see all of her friends and now that they were back on the Cheerio's, it meant a lot more dancing. Santana always whined about having to go back. That's why for the last couple weeks Brittany had been allowing them to lay in bed after waking up for as long as Santana wanted, knowing they wouldn't be able to do it for much longer. She didn't really understand lying in bed when you could be out doing things; but Santana loved it, so she happily agreed.<p>

Brittany sat on her front porch, playing with the pleats of her skirt and fidgeting restlessly against the material around her chest. After coming to school in normal clothes for months, it was weird to wake up and zip up in her uniform like she had all of freshman and sophomore year. She felt suffocated and a little disappointed; Coach Sue never let her include a hat with her outfit. Even after begging that she could keep it pinned down with a bobby pin, all Sue did was grimace and walk away. It sounded like such a logical plan to Brittany.

The morning air was still warm, as summer had yet to disappear completely into fall and Brittany tapped her sneaker against the ground. Santana should have been there by now, but she didn't have to struggle to say calm. She always showed up, even if it was hours late.

In cue with her thoughts, the low grumble of Santana's engine purred down her street and pulled up into her driveway. She could see Santana's flashing smile through the front window and felt her own mouth turn up into a sparkling grin. Brittany picked up her backpack and hung it in front of her as she walked to the car. Santana leaned over the center console and shoved her door open, and she dropped into the seat, pulling the door shut.

"Morning," Santana said cheerfully.

Brittany looked at her quizzically. _'Why is she so alert?'_ she wondered. In the morning, Santana was usually very quiet, and grouchy.

After she didn't say anything for a few seconds, Santana asked, "What?"

"You're very, um awake," Brittany said amusingly. It was more of a question than it was a statement.

Santana smiled, "I've been up for a while."

"Why?" Brittany wondered aloud.

Starting to back out of the driveway, Santana glowered, "Sue called me again this morning. Seriously, it should be against the law for teachers to call students outside of school. I regret giving Schue my number last year."

Brittany ignored her rant, "What did she want?"

They paused at a stoplight and Santana had enough time to look over at her. She was glowing with her information and Brittany wanted to reach out and touch her face just to make sure it wasn't a dream that Santana looked that happy.

"She made me captain again." Brittany almost dove over into her seat to hug Santana crazy. She settled for leaning over and giving her a celebratory kiss on the cheek. Santana's face lit up all over again and she laughed, "Don't be too proud. I'm actually co-captain with Becky."

Brittany could hear the tiny drop of disdain in her tone but just shook her head dismissively, "It doesn't matter. That's amazing, San."

The light turned green and they pulled forward. "Thanks, B."

Brittany settled back into her seat comfortably. When she did, the fabric of her top scratched uncomfortably against her skin and she shifted again the chair.

Santana stole a glance at her, "You okay?"

Brittany sighed, "I'm glad we're cheerleading again, but I don't remember these outfits being this itchy. I think my body's repelling them."

Santana chuckled, "You'll get used to it again."

"What if when I'm not paying attention, my body slips out of it," Brittany asked seriously. It was a terrifying thought.

Quirking an eyebrow, Santana smirked, "Then you better hope I'm there to cover you."

Brittany smirked back, "You'd be my favorite t-shirt."

Her face shifting quickly, Santana frowned, "That's kinda creepy."

The school came into sight as Brittany huffed, "I just meant I'd like you on top of me."

Santana laughed, "I'd like that too." Brittany could feel her cheeks redden and she didn't know if it was from embarrassment or something else…

When Santana parked, she clicked a button on the dashboard and checked the time. They still had twenty minutes before they had to be inside, and just like mornings the couple years before, they chose to hang out in Santana's car until the last minute possible.

Santana reclined her chair and shut her eyes heavily. Brittany was glad to see some of her normal behavior returning.

"Did you ever ask Coach why she was letting us back on the squad?" Santana shrugged and she continued, "I mean, what makes her think we won't sell her out for the glee club again."

Santana opened her eyes, "We didn't sell her out. We just chose the glee club first."

"But she made you captain, so that means she still trusts you right?" Santana nodded. "I just don't understand why."

The expression on Santana's face made Brittany realize she didn't get the whole story about her encounter with Sue that morning. Santana didn't want to tell her something and she could sense it immediately. There wasn't much Santana would keep from her, especially when she was caught, so she just waited patiently for an answer.

She could see Santana bite the inside of her cheek nervously, "I kind of made her a promise."

"About?" Brittany asked calmly. It wouldn't do any good to jump down Santana's throat, and that's what Brittany wanted to do when their coach was involved.

"Allegiance I guess. She told me if I helped her, with, uh," her face scrunched up, "something about Mr. Schue, she would let me be co-captain," her face shifted to some kind of resolve, "And I agreed."

Brittany sighed, "Something about Schue. So, basically something about glee club."

Santana leaned up in her seat, "You know I love glee, and I'm not going to do anything really bad."

Her eyes wide, Brittany retorted, "It's Sue, Santana, everything she does is really bad."

Santana was speechless and seemed like she didn't want to even attempt an argument. Brittany understood she had committed to her plan and nothing she could say would change her mind.

"I'm not going to help you," Brittany warned softly, "you know that right?"

Grabbing her hand and pulling it to her lips, Santana whispered against her knuckles, "I wouldn't ask you to." She kissed her hand a few times and laced her own fingers between Brittany's slender fingers.

Her skin was blazing under Santana's hot breaths and she fought the urge to let her eyes roll in the back of her head. Santana was playing her weakness and she wouldn't complain—she loved every second of it.

"Something bad is going to happen," she blurted out in a hushed stream of air.

"Let me worry about it," Santana whispered kindly. "Kiss me before we have to go in," she asked nervously. Brittany heard an entirely different form of uneasiness in Santana's words and instead of probing, she just pushed forward and captured Santana's lips in a soft kiss. She made sure to lean them back a little so their heads were out of the line of sight for someone walking past the front of the car; Santana's blacked out windows did the rest. She could feel the neediness and tried to force an overwhelming amount of strength on her own side.

Santana broke them apart and side-eyed the digital clock on her dashboard, "Time to go."

Brittany smiled and kissed her cheek, "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>"But I just don't get why the pianos have to be purple," Mike questioned Santana curiously. <em>'Like I know what that bat-shit teacher's thinking,' <em>she thought. Brittany and Tina ran up behind them and joined the conversation.

"Do Mr. Schuester's pep-talks weird anyone else out besides me?" Tina asked as they exited the choir room.

Mike, Santana, and Brittany all laughed. Santana had cringed more than once while he was speaking and Brittany's soothing strokes on her shoulder, done very subtly in the back row, were the only thing keeping her from making a scathing remark to halt him in his disturbing tracks. "He will not being pushing me in any way, shape or form," she joked, "he's got his little pixie-girlfriend for that." Mike, Tina, and Brittany grimaced playfully. They continued to walk down the hallway before a very determined-looking Rachel Berry stepped in front of them.

"Hello fellow glee club members. Seeing as we will be winning National's this year, I hope you all will take Mr. Schue's passion and drive to heart," she looked between all of them, and they all exchanged annoyed glances with each other.

Santana spoke up first, "That depends, will you and Finnocence be keeping your lips to yourselves this year? Maybe you want to take it a step further and finally pop that virginal cherry on stage." Tina and Mike snickered until Rachel glared at them. They looked at each other anxiously and walked away, waving a soft goodbye.

Rachel shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "Is that really necessary?"

Santana snapped back, "Is what necessary?"

"I thought we were friends, Santana."

Santana saw Brittany glance at her, both eyebrows raised, eagerly awaiting her reply. If Brittany hadn't of been there, she definitely would have rolled her eyes by then.

Rachel saw the exchange and turned to Brittany, "Brittany, do you think you could give us a minute?"

Santana's head whipped to see her reaction. There was a tiny hidden smirk she was sure Rachel couldn't see, but she picked up on it instantly. Brittany wasn't going anywhere.

"I think I'll stay." Brittany nudged Santana's shoulder discreetly. That time she did roll her eyes.

"I'm sorry about the sex joke," she admitted bitterly. Brittany nudged her again, "and about the park too." She resisted the urge to groan. Sure, she felt a little bad about what she said to Rachel in the park, but that didn't mean she would have ever apologized for it. It was weird that Rachel had enough courage to demand things of her. Santana thought she was losing her edge, or maybe actually gaining a friend.

Rachel smiled, "You're sorry?"

"Isn't that what you wanted," Santana asked rudely. Her patience was fading quickly.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I thought I would get it." Santana brushed past her, pulling Brittany along. Rachel didn't seem to care and walked further down the hallway and around a corner. When she looked at Brittany again, Santana noticed the winning smile on her face and scowled playfully.

"You knew I wouldn't be mean to her with you there," she said curtly. Brittany shrugged mockingly and then smiled. "I hate you." They walked all the way to the Cheerio's locker room silently and went inside to change for Cheerio's practice. It wasn't regular practice with Sue, but they just had to go work out in the weight room for the period. Santana scanned the lockers and realized Sue had changed their assignments so they were five or six doors away from each other. Brittany pouted adorably and trudged down to hers at the far end. Santana opened her own locker and played around with its mandated contents: deodorant, towels, and a fresh set of pom-poms.

Before she knew it, Brittany was right behind her and leaning in close to her ear, "You love me." It was so late for her to say something but that didn't stop the hairs on Santana's neck from standing up. Hearing that would never get old, no matter how many times Brittany said it. Simply hearing "love" fall from Brittany's lips in any context suddenly held such a higher magnitude. It was on par with the way Brittany said _her_ name, Brittany's laugh, and even Brittany's light snores. _'Yes, I love you,'_ her smile widened. She watched Brittany walk slowly back to her space and continued to gaze at her lovingly.

Brittany took a drink out of the water bottle she pulled from her locker and stared back. With a sly grin she called out playfully, "_Santana_…"

Shaking her head, Santana changed into her workout clothes hurriedly—red WMHS shorts and a grey tank-top—and met Brittany, who matched her, at the door. Making sure no one was looking, she brought her head close to Brittany's ear and whispered, "I do love you." Brittany linked their pinkies and tugged Santana out the door.

* * *

><p>Brittany was standing at her locker, putting up pictures of Santana and Lord Tubbington, when a voice out of nowhere made her jump.<p>

"Brittany Pierce," Kurt said with a smile. She turned around and saw him standing there in a beige cardigan and tight brown pants. One thing she loved about Kurt was that he liked to incorporate some kind of bird pin into his outfits. The muted grey one she noticed was incredibly adorable and she ignored the desire to reach out and touch it. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

"Kurt!" She grinned into his shoulder, "I missed you this summer!"

Kurt chuckled into her hair and patted her back lightly, "Sorry Britt, I spent a lot of time with Blaine and I guess I got caught up."

She pulled back and smiled, "Don't apologize. I spent a lot of my time with San, so I understand." Her eyes darted around the mostly empty hallway and she whispered, "Guess what?"

He grinned playfully, "Ooo gossip. Tell me."

"We're dating now." She could feel her heart beating faster at the thought.

Kurt grabbed both of her arms and squeezed excitedly, "Congrats Britt!" His voice had risen considerably.

Brittany started to worry and shushed him, "Be quiet. You can't tell anyone, okay? It's a secret."

Kurt frowned at her, "Are you okay with that?" She grunted; Kurt always had to put a damper on happy things.

"Yes," she breathed, "I don't care. I just want to be with," she eyed the football player walking past them worriedly, "_her." _

The smile grew on Kurt's face again, "I'm happy for you." He paused to let her breathe a moment and then continued, "I have favor to ask you."

People rarely asked for her help, so Brittany nodded instantly, "I'm in."

"You didn't let me tell you what it is," Kurt asked with a laugh.

Shrugging, Brittany grinned, "So what? I wanna help." The idea of spending more time with him sounded fun anyway, regardless of what he needed.

Kurt clapped, "Great, well I am thinking of running for class president."

"Why?" she asked curiously. Brittany had seen the signs announcing the elections but quickly dismissed them when Santana laughed at the people who had already signed up.

He leaned against the locker next to hers, "Rachel and I just had a meeting with Ms. Pillsbury and she told us about a new school in New York that we could apply to for college. And I thought it'd look good on an application."

'_College,'_ Brittany hadn't thought a lot about going anywhere for school. With her grades, the prospect of getting into any kind of good school was slim. She had always just figured she'd end up wherever Santana ended up. She knew she wanted to dance, but as long as she was with Santana, she'd make it work.

"But why are you asking me?" Brittany eyed him oddly, "I'm not really all that smart. I mean I could get Santana to help you but—"

"You're popular, Britt. You have something I've never had," he said shamelessly.

Brittany looked down at her chest, and then at him, "Boobs? You can get boobs if you want them, Santana did. I mean she had boobs, but the doctor made them bigger. Maybe it was a pill, I'll ask her for you."

Kurt stared wide eyed and on the verge of laughter. It was the look meaning she didn't quite catch what the person meant and Brittany was so used to it, she just waited for him to correct her.

When he didn't, she was surprised, "Well actually I'm sure boobs have something to do with it." Brittany smiled and he laughed. "Although I don't think that's the best option for me to choose. No, I was hoping you could help me design posters, and work on speeches. People like you, everyone in glee adores you, and I just thought maybe you could help me out."

'_He wants my help,' _Brittany's heart swelled. People wanted her help when they needed to learn a new dance, or when they wanted to have sex with her. Those were usually the two reasons. So when the idea of helping Kurt with anything other than those two things—she was pretty sure Blaine was helping with one of them—arose, she knew there was no reason to deny him. "I would love to help you Kurt!" She exclaimed and wrapped him back up in hug.

* * *

><p>Rachel was exhausted. Three hours in to school and she already had piles of homework lining the inside of her binders that she shoved carelessly into her locker and slammed it shut. She had a free period before lunch and decided to use it to find Quinn. Rachel had been searching the hallways for her face all day and had been completely unsuccessful. It led her to believe maybe Quinn hadn't even come to school, but knowing she recognized her car in the parking lot, maybe she just hadn't come <em>in<em> to school.

The black cardigan she wore felt a little unnecessary when she pushed through the double doors leading down to the field and felt the warm air breeze through her hair. Rachel expected to hear cheering as she went down the path; instead she heard delicate sighing and clanging metal.

A hushed voice she didn't recognize growled, "This is," then grunted, "… so much easier with couches."

She heard a throaty chuckle, _'Quinn,' _and heard her respond to the unknown voice, "You're welcome."

Rachel knew she should probably turn around, but instead, she rounded the edge of the brick wall and walked further towards the bleachers. The back of a faded, black leather couch was closest to her, with a high enough back that the other girl was completely out of sight. All she saw was Quinn's head, gritty pink strands of hair poking up and into her view. If she wasn't mistaken, she could see a tanned hand, complete with grimy fingernails, gripping Quinn's neck roughly. It made her sick.

Her feet stood locked to the ground, unwavering and determined. For some odd reason, Rachel felt entitled to be there. She had a plan to find Quinn, and she did, so whatever she was interrupting could wait. Only then she had to think of a way to announce herself.

She settled for clearing her throat loudly. Quinn froze. The other girl, who Rachel then recognized from her history class the previous year as Kara Foster, shot up and inadvertently tossed Quinn backwards.

"What the hell do you want, Berry?" Kara demanded hoarsely. Her hair was tussled and Rachel felt her stomach lurch again.

"To have a word with my…uh…friend, Quinn," Quinn still hadn't looked at her. It was a little disheartening but she continued, "Would you mind Kara?"

"How do you know my name freak?" Kara asked roughly, and then turned to Quinn, "Can you make her leave?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at Kara, "Can _you_ just leave for like ten minutes?"

Kara stood up angrily, "Whatever Quinn. Why do you get so weird when she's around? First at the tattoo parlor, then when Lopez brought her up, and now you're asking me to leave when she comes running? What gives?" She looked between them. Rachel averted her eyes and found solace in counting the beams of the bleachers. She could feel Kara's gaze shift away and back onto Quinn.

"Right, okay," Kara clicked her teeth, "I'm not coming back, so I hope Berry's enough fun for you." She stormed away, grabbing her purse on the way.

Rachel watched her go, and then looked over where Quinn was still seated on the couch. Her back was turned and she was digging through her own purse. After a deep breath, Rachel worked up enough courage to walk around the edge and stand at the opposite side of the smelly hunk of trash. The smell revolted her, and even more that, she couldn't tell if the stench coming off Quinn was from the couch or something else. Mindlessly she wondered if it was real leather, and then forced the thought to the back of her head.

She stopped in front of the couch and stared into the side of Quinn's head. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Quinn trapped an unlit cigarette between her teeth. "I don't care what you do, Berry."

Rachel rolled her eyes and sat down. "Really? Berry again?"

Flicking the cap of her lighter, Quinn answered sarcastically, "Yup. Are you going to analyze that now?"

Rachel was a little unsure of what to say, so she instead started yelling, "Do you mind not smoking?"

"Oh goody, maybe a lecture on the dangers of smoking, I'm all ears." Quinn still hadn't looked at her.

She was infuriated. "No actually. I was more concerned about myself; secondhand smoke is still dangerous for my voice. I'm actually very fond of it still and would like to protect it."

Quinn laughed and dropped the cigarette into her lap carelessly. "You wouldn't be you without it. Your voice comes before everything else, right?"

Everything she said hurt, and Rachel wanted to twist Quinn's shoulders and scream into her face. Anything to get a point across; even though she wasn't really sure yet what that point was. "I faintly remember you said you loved my voice once."

She saw the corner of Quinn's face twitch into a scowl. "There's a reason that memory's faint." Her voice was so cold and Rachel flinched involuntarily. "Why are you here?"

Rachel finally found her control; she had a reason to be there. "Why didn't you come to glee today?"

Quinn's head turned gradually. To Rachel, it felt like it took forever. When their gaze connected, all of the comfort she remembered was washed away by the hurt presented to her by those two hazel eyes. "Are you serious?" It was piercing. And Rachel knew why. Quinn had been expecting something, and it wasn't something as simple as that.

"I-I…we all missed you in there. We need you." She could sense something shifting and was wholly unprepared for the change.

"So you want me to come back and sing and dance and pretend everything is alright?" Quinn's eyes blazed.

"No, but its glee club. We all love you and we can help you with whatever—"

"I don't want anyone's help. Especially yours." Her voice was so bitter.

Rachel's breathing was constricting, and her throat felt thick. "Is this about us?"

Quinn's eyelids fell shut almost immediately. It looked like she was trying to force the image of Rachel out of her mind and she was struggling. "Not everything is about us." A low noise that sounded like a mix between a cough and a whine escaped from Quinn's chest. "We were a mistake that shouldn't have happened in the first place."

On instinct, Rachel nabbed Quinn's hand from between them, "Please don't say that." Before she knew it, that hand was pushing her shoulder back and forcing her against the arm of the couch. Quinn was everywhere: on her neck, on her mouth, and had fingers skirting the bottom of her dress. She felt lost. Her brain was screaming stop and it took the signal a long time before it got the message to force Quinn back.

"Finn!" The disembodied name flew from her throat and someone could have convinced her it wasn't her own voice if they wanted to. The way she knew it was hers happened to be the broken face hanging a couple inches above her own. "Quinn, I'm," she started.

Quinn scrambled backwards as gracefully as she could manage and pushed herself against the other arm, creating what Rachel noticed was as much distance between them as possible. They sat in silence but there was nothing comforting about it that time. Rachel fixed her dress down and tried to still her breathing.

"Quinn." Rachel didn't know what to say. Her name was the only thing that sounded appropriate. She should have told her she didn't want that, and it wasn't why she was there. But it felt too much like a lie.

Quinn scraped the cigarette from the ground and had it lit in her mouth faster that Rachel could process. She could tell she wouldn't be staying much longer. That information wasn't comforting enough when Quinn glared at her. "Do me a favor—Fuck off and don't come back here."

Her legs trembled as she climbed to her feet. The finality in Quinn's words seemed to extend out of their current situation and into an entirely painful territory. Rachel stormed away and back into the school, vowing to not let Quinn see her cry.

* * *

><p>Santana could barely hold in a laugh seeing him strut down the main hallway. Girl's heads were turning left and right and she wanted to smash their heads together until they realized their tasteless attempts at attracting his attention would get them nowhere. She'd seen Kurt in red pants before, but Blaine definitely took it to a new level. <em>'If his bow tie didn't match, I doubt it'd be so revolting.'<em>

Kurt hadn't told them Blaine was transferring, but she could assume as much seeing him out of the red and blue blazer. As much as hers and Brittany's Cheerio's uniform was symbolic of their status, his ties were on the same playing field. She had to admit; it was definitely an upgrade.

When he neared her locker, and made persistent eye contact, Santana was confused. Blaine walked up square in front of her, and boldly smiled. "Hello Santana."

"Warbler," she responded playfully, "cute bowtie."

He smirked, "Wore it just for you." His wink made her laugh. Santana could appreciate his confidence; everyone else was too afraid to mess with her, and for the right reasons. He hadn't done much to piss her off yet, so there was no reason to scare him off.

"Can I help you?" she asked, keeping a listless expression on her face. She didn't want anyone walking by to think she cared what Blaine had to say.

"Actually, you can. I need to audition for the New Directions, and I was hoping you could back me up." The charming smile on his face was starting to get a little sickening. He was clearly trying really hard.

"With what, singing? Why can't Hummel help you?" she asked.

Blaine faltered, "I already have an idea and it would take a lot of people. I came to you, because I was hoping you could convince the cheerleaders to help me. I have a huge number planned in the courtyard."

Santana laughed harshly, "Kurt obviously hasn't told you about the status quo here. The Cheerio's are _not_ going to help you."

"They will if you force them to," he suggested, "I at least know you have a certain amount of _persuasion_ when it comes to them."

It was a bad idea. Not only did Santana risk screwing up her reputation by the girls rejecting the idea, but Sue would be pissed off at her squad being of any help to the glee club. _'And I just got made co-captain,'_ that idea alone was enough to tell him no deal. But before she could dismiss him, a new idea popped into her head.

"_You're aware of the purple pianos around school. Correct, Santana?" Sue mused bitterly. _

"_Mr. Schuester's trying to recruit new members," Santana informed her. She remembered wishing Brittany was there; it was easier to handle Sue's interrogations with a partner._

"_I want you to destroy them," Sue sat back in her chair, "I already took care of one earlier today, when the Asian dream team was poisoning my office with the music of their homeland," Santana remembered the melody Tina had been practicing and shook her head subtly, "and now it's your turn."_

"_He'll know it's me," she answered lamely. _

_Sue hunched forward, "Be creative so that doesn't happen then."_

Blaine was giving her the perfect opportunity. She knew Brittany wouldn't help her, but if she could tell the rest of her team it was under Sue's orders, they would definitely agree. Santana could help Blaine, and gain some credibility with her coach. She would just have to think of a way to make destroying one of the pianos seem like a part of his act. Among her plotting thoughts, Brittany's warning threatened the stability of her plan. Santana couldn't help but sense the impending disappointment she would receive.

It was enough to make her double think it, but all Brittany had said was '_don't expect my help' _so she answered him with a nod of her head. "Let me go talk to them and then I'll find you," she added.

* * *

><p>"I need you to come somewhere with me," Puck said wistfully. He grabbed at a piece of her hair and Quinn smacked his hand away.<p>

"Why?" she asked in frustration. He hadn't stopped trying to touch her hair or flick at her nose ring since he walked up to her locker and it was irritating her.

"Will you just come with me? Please?" He sounded as sincere as he could with that childish grin on his face that she hated.

Quinn slammed her locker and motioned for him to start walking. Puck had consistently been refusing to tell her what he wanted, and since there wasn't much they had in common—considering they had spent most of last year avoiding each other—she knew it could only be one thing. Shelby was a teacher, and there being only once school in Lima, she was bound to show up at McKinley one way or another. Quinn wasn't stupid. So when Puck pushed her through a doorway and saw Shelby's back turned towards her, erasing the whiteboard, all she could think to do was roll her eyes.

"Ms. Corcoran," Puck announced them and Quinn wanted to punch him. Or kick him in the nuts. He would probably take the latter a little more personally.

Shelby turned around and looked her over, "Wow, Quinn. What happened?"

"That's a little rude don't you think," Quinn snapped back. She was about three seconds from turning around and bursting past Puck through the doorway. Something held her there.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way." Shelby sat down on the edge of her huge wooden desk. "We wanted to talk to you about Beth."

Quinn glanced furiously at Puck and he raised his hands in defense. When he kept his mouth shut, she had no choice but to turn back. "What about her?"

Shelby smiled kindly, "Well, since I'm back, and she's here, I would really like you to be able to interact with her. I think it's important for you to be a presence in her life."

Quinn smirked, "Just like you're a presence in your daughter's life?"

Shelby shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "I have my own regrets, but I don't want you share them."

"When can I see her?" Her patience was waning. Shelby was dangling Beth in front of her and it was everything she could do to not scream obscenities at the woman.

"I'm not comfortable with you seeing her, in this, um, state," Shelby continued to scan her appearance.

Quinn felt awkward under the scrutiny. This woman should have no power over her, but in a weird way she did. Shelby had _her_ daughter, and was the only thing keeping her away. Quinn's life felt so messed up: she had Beth who she gave away like the selfish teenager she was, her parents had kicked her because of Beth (although Judy had let her come home), Finn had dumped her repeatedly for Rachel, Puck didn't want her, and most importantly Rachel no longer wanted her. As much as she tried to latch onto a piece of herself, she came up short. And then Shelby was presenting her with that opportunity. But she didn't want to have a buffer between them. Beth was _hers._ Shelby only stood in the way of that.

"I want to see her," Quinn demanded. She didn't know what it would help, but being in the same room with her daughter was the first step.

"I'm her mother, Quinn, and I don't think that's a good idea." Quinn wanted to roll her eyes at how condescending she sounded. It seemed like the word 'mother' was thrown in just to spite her.

So she retaliated, "No, Shelby, I'm her mother. You have a daughter, remember? You come here and tease me with the thought of my child and then rip it away? She's mine, and you'll see that."

Puck stepped forward, "Quinn, stop."

"Screw you, Puck," she replied and shoved him backwards. She turned to Shelby again, "Just wait. Beth will be mine again. I'm her mom, and I'll get her back."Her mind was reeling as she turned on her heels and pushed through the doorway. The thoughtful look on Puck's face as she passed it in the last minute gave her a little bit of hope that she might have an ally soon. She almost smirked before she remembered what was at stake. Beth was there, and she _would_ get her back.

* * *

><p>Brittany could tell Santana knew she was mad by how far away she sat in the choir room. While Quinn's cigarette had done most of the work, she knew immediately that Santana was behind the torched piano. Although she was upset by her actions, she couldn't help but think about how cool the fire was. She had suggested to Tina at the time that they should have roasted marshmallows, to which Tina just replied with a disbelieving shake of her head.<p>

Mr. Schuester came barreling into the room with Blaine in tow. "I would like to start off by welcoming our new member Blaine Anderson. With a fantastic performance bringing him in." Everyone clapped and Brittany whistled. She was happy to see Kurt's face light up at the appearance of his boyfriend, and flicked his knee teasingly.

"A lot better than that Sugar chick," Puck commented from the back of the room, "she was kinda hot but her voice made my ears bleed."

Blaine brushed past Brittany's shoulder and he walked up the few steps. Before he reached his seat, and earning a disinterested sigh from Brittany, Finn spoke up, "Maybe next time you can sing without setting our school on fire."

"Excuse me?" Blaine retorted, looking between everyone's faces. "That wasn't me. That was _your_ cheerleaders."

"Exactly," Mr. Schuester said and Brittany felt her stomach sinking as he walked over in front of Santana, "Santana, you need to leave. Fighting amongst ourselves was last year, we aren't doing that again. We were a disconnected team, and until you prove I can trust you, you're not welcome here."

Santana's face scrunched together desperately, her eyes found Brittany's for a brief second and Brittany could tell how panicked she was. "Are you frickin kidding me? We were horrible last year because we had a teacher who was too selfish to teach us." Brittany bit her lip, knowing Santana was just making it worse for herself. "You know what, whatever. I don't need to be here." Her chair scratched against the chair noisily and she stood up, walking poised out of the room. Brittany watched her go by and frowned. She hated being there without Santana. Santana was gone for twenty seconds and she already wanted to bail. Brittany ignored Rachel's abrupt singing at the front of the room, barely heard Kurt's declaration for student council, and Mr. Schuester's spiel on the school play. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat on the edge of the stage and kicked her legs back and forth restlessly. Her hair was slimy at the base of her neck from sweating and she wanted nothing more than to go home and shower away the grime from their performance. Finn was her ride home and she had been waiting patiently for him to be done talking to Puck and Mike. Rachel took the time to run through every detail of their performance. No one seemed to have improved or gotten worse from last year, and Blaine blended in well with the rest of their team, so she was pleased. <em>'There's always room for improvement thought.'<em> It was only the first day of school and she had an excellent feeling about their chance at winning National's.

Finn finally paced up to her and he looked solemn, "Is there any way you can get a ride home?"

Her eyes widened, "Are you serious?" She looked around seeing who was left and Puck seemed like the only option.

"Yeah, well, Mike said he could help me with some dance moves, and I figured you know Mr. Schue's booty camp thing coming up, I could use all the help I could get." The purpose behind it seemed to settle a little of her anger, but not completely.

Rachel sighed, "I guess." Suddenly, Mercedes walked out past them and grabbed her abandoned bag from the stage a few feet away from Rachel. When she looked over, she saw a shadow high in the rafters of the stage. She could recognize immediately who it was and her heart leapt unwillingly in her chest as it bloated with the tiniest register of hope. "Mercedes!" she called out.

Mercedes paused on her trek back out of the auditorium and smiled, "Yes Rachel?"

"Is there any way you could provide me with a ride home?" she asked insistently.

She could tell how reluctantly Mercedes nodded her head and she smiled appreciatively, "Great. Thanks. Five minutes and then I'll meet you at your car?"

"Sounds good, just hurry it up," Mercedes smiled at Finn and then walked the rest of the way out of the room.

Rachel turned to Finn and her smile dropped, "All taken care of. Excuse me, alright?" She hopped to her feet on the stage and he frowned at her. "Oh right, sorry," she bent forward on her knees and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Call me later, okay?"

He nodded and kissed her again. His goofy smile was the last thing she saw before she turned around and walked behind the curtains. She found the service stairs and halted in her steps, realizing she didn't have to go up them since Quinn was sitting somewhere in the middle. Quinn eyes were trained on her and she shook away her anxiety enough to walk up three steps, still two away from her.

"What are you doing here, Quinn?" Rachel asked confidently. Her performance high still hadn't gone away and this was her turf more than it was Quinn's. It didn't stop her heart from thrumming uncomfortably against her rib cage.

"That's a hell of a show you're putting on with Finn, who's the audience?" Quinn didn't seem interested in the answer. That's how Rachel knew she really was.

"I love Finn, Quinn, you understand that right?" She watched Quinn cringe and do the eyes-closed struggle again. Rachel didn't think she could have found a more perfect way to hurt her.

"Spoken to Shelby yet?" Quinn asked when she opened her eyes.

Rachel nodded, "I have. She's helping me with my application for a new school in New York. NYADA," she paused, "stands for 'New York—'"

"So no more Julliard?" Quinn asked again. For someone who was supposed to be careless, she was asking a lot of questions.

"No, they have no musical theatre, so. Did you see Shelby yet?" Rachel turned the tables.

Quinn nodded slowly, "'wants me to see Beth again."

"That's amazing," Rachel exclaimed. That was exactly what she wanted when she went to Shelby in the first place. Although it was coming a year later than expected, it made her so happy to hear her mother was allowing Quinn a place in Beth's life. She wished someone had given her that right. But Rachel could tell Quinn didn't seem that happy from her unwavering scowl, "Unless you don't want to see her?"

"Imagine, someone's holding your inevitable _Tony_ award in front of your face, but won't let you just have it. You know it's yours, but they don't think you deserve it. That's how I feel right now." She could see distant tears making their ways to Quinn's eyes. It made them pop just a little bit more when they were glazed over in that wetness. Rachel didn't think that was something that she should have noticed so easily. She didn't know what to say so she remained quiet, mindful of the fact that Mercedes was waiting for her. But she was waiting for Quinn to leave first. She couldn't bear walking away.

"So I can't have Beth," Quinn finally stuttered out in a heavy breath, "and I can't have you. So what do I get?"

"Quinn…I…"

"No, it's okay. There's a good reason I can't have you, and I'll just have to find a way to work around the other thing. Maybe I'll end up with one of them." Her tears were silently falling and Rachel just watched her. She couldn't figure out what Quinn was suggesting, but it didn't sound good. She held her breath unconsciously and ignored the painful tension that resulted.

Finally, Quinn pulled herself up by the metal railing and pushed past her without a final word. Rachel heard a door slam shut and her breath released.

* * *

><p>She hadn't really expected Brittany to let her over. Their silent car ride ended in front of Brittany's house when Santana smiled her goodbye. Brittany obviously had different thoughts and gave her a confused smile. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked Santana lightly. Santana smirked, unbuckled her seatbelt and followed Brittany into the house.<p>

The best part about Brittany's bed was how clearly it smelt like Brittany. Santana was immensely grateful she hadn't gotten used to the smell, seeing as they were attached at the hip, she frequently wore Brittany's clothing, and often her own bed smelled like the girl. So when Brittany dropped into her desk chair, Santana took refuge in her deep comforter. She pulled the blanket around her head, too lazy to stretch up and grab a pillow and fashioned her own out of the material.

Brittany's voice floated through the air, "I'm sorry about glee."

"Why?" Santana asked. Brittany should have been telling her 'I told you so' not 'sorry.'

"I just know how much you love it," the rustling of papers muffled her voice, "I thought you'd be more upset."

"Upset? I'm furious. What do you think it'd take to get him fired?"

"That's not gonna help, Santana," Brittany said with a laugh.

Santana shut her eyes, "I feel so stupid. This is my fault. I thought I could help Blaine and please Sue," she paused, "god that was a bad choice of words."

She saw Brittany throw her head back slightly in silent laughter. Santana wished she wouldn't have muted it, she loved Brittany's laugh. Her cheeks twisted up into a grin, "Come here."

"I'm busy," Brittany replied. Santana sat up and tried to peer over her shoulder, but she was too far away. She stood up and walked behind Brittany's chair and bent forward, leaning her chin on Brittany's shoulder.

"What's this?" She asked. Brittany had been sketching blocks of colors with Kurt's name bright on top of them. Up above her own drawings, an open coloring book displayed a unicorn image that was colored in perfectly. It looked like Brittany was using it as a model, when her eyes shifted back and forth between her paper and the book.

Santana stood up straight and nudged Brittany's shoulder with her hip, forcing her to move over. Brittany smiled, and scooted over, giving Santana enough space to sit down. "Kurt asked me to help him with his class president campaign."

Santana picked up a scattered drawing of what she guessed was supposed to be his face with a horn sticking out of her head, "Did you come up with this idea?"

Brittany eyed her, "Yeah? Why is it bad?"

"For Kurt, I think it's bad. For you, no."

Brittany dropped her pink crayon and sighed. "He's gonna hate it isn't he?"

"Maybe," Santana started, "why are you helping him though?"

Shrugging, Brittany picked up her crayon again and continued coloring, "He asked me. He said it would help him get into school, and I thought it'd be nice to help."

Santana resigned to flipping through the coloring book's pages as she spoke, dedicated to picking one she liked, "I'm glad we don't have to worry about that. We're pretty much guaranteed at any college with Sue behind us."

Brittany seemed decidedly more interested, "Do you want to go to college?"

Santana honestly hadn't thought about it. She just assumed she would fall in line with wherever offered her the best scholarship. But now that she had different interests, including glee and singing, it seemed like she actually had a choice to make. Her mother and father's dreams of her being a doctor had somewhere drifted away when she imagined her own future.

"I don't know, really. The thing that pissed me off so much about Schuester kicking me out, was that club is like my home. I love singing and that's where I go to do what I love. I'm not sure there's a college for what I want to do, you know?" It made sense in her mind. She could follow Rachel and Kurt to New York and try to get into Julliard, _'they have a voice program,_' but part of her felt like that wasn't her dream. She knew she was good and didn't see the sense in wasting her talents by spending four years in school.

"Do you?" she asked Brittany nervously. As much as she had her own plans (or lack of plans), Brittany had a specific influence on her future that she wasn't ready to give up, or ever thought she would be able to.

"I think so. I want to dance and I know there are a lot of good schools I could go to," Brittany's crayon strokes got a little lighter as she talked. Santana had selected a cartoon version of a carousel. She put her hand out, like a surgeon, and Brittany followed her action with a smile and placed a purple crayon in her palm. "I just don't think I'll have the grades to get in."

Santana pushed harder down against the paper, "Artie helped you last year right?" Brittany nodded. "Did it help?"

"Kind of."

"I could help you," Santana offered. If Brittany wanted to go to college and grades were the only thing stopping her, hell, Santana would do all of her homework for the rest of the year and bribe Sue to push her grades up. But she knew Brittany, and she knew it was something she'd want to do on her own.

Brittany turned and kissed her cheek, "I'd like that."

Santana grinned and she selected a different crayon. An idea popped into her head unannounced. "You know, I think you should run for class president."

"Against Kurt?" Brittany asked quietly. "I don't think he'd like that."

"So what," Santana scoffed, "you'd be better at it than him. People love you, there's no way you wouldn't win."

"But Kurt could do good things for this school, things that could help us. He showed me a powerpoint, it was impressive."

Santana laughed, "You could do just as much as him, and even better because people would actually want to listen to you talk."

"Everyone thinks I'm stupid," Brittany reminded her and Santana shook her head.

"Then let's show them how smart you are." The first time her crayon lifted from the page was when Brittany's arms flung around her waist and squeezed her so tight she was unprepared and lost her grip.

"Thanks, Santana."

"No problem, B." Santana grinned and went back to coloring. She could feel Brittany's eyes watching her and couldn't help laughing. "What?"

"Do you wanna get something to eat?" Brittany asked. She could hear the smile in her voice.

"After I finish this kickass carousel, seriously why don't we color anymore? This is amazing." Brittany laughed and rested her elbow against the desk, lowering her head into her palm. "I wasn't joking," Santana whispered and Brittany pinched her side playfully.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had fun writing that last scene. Thanks for reading :) Review! **


	36. a place where we escape

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I don't even know what to say about this, cause it mashes up a bunch of different episodes. Three, four and a little of five. I'm going to cover more of First Time in the next one, which will also include Mash Off and I Kissed A Girl. If it takes me a while to post a new chapter, it's because I'm trying to make that one good. Hope you like this one! Thanks :)  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Anna yelled up the stairs, "Brittany, come down here. I need to talk to you before you leave for school!"<p>

Brittany had just finished pulling her hair up into a ponytail, so she grabbed her backpack out of her doorway and ran down the stairs. She skipped through the hallway into the kitchen and found her mother sitting at the table spread out with pamphlets and papers.

"What's this?" She asked, picking up one decorated with orange, green, and white flags.

"Do you remember this summer when the school sent us information about exchange students?"

"Mhm." Brittany nodded. Her mom had insisted on lending their house out for the student exchange program and Brittany thought it'd be cool to meet someone from a different country. "Wait, do I have to go to wherever this kid is from? Are you shipping me off somewhere?" She dropped the pamphlet and her eyes widened.

Anna grabbed her hand and laughed. "Not if you don't want to honey. It's not required. He's just coming to stay with us for a couple months."

"He?" Brittany asked. She could already imagine Santana would be pissed someone else was staying at her house, but the fact that it was a boy made her think it was going to be even worse.

"You're not going to be sleeping in the same room, Brittany." Anna could sense her concern. Maybe not exactly what she was thinking, but some kind of worry had to be written on her face. She rubbed at her cheek nervously.

"Where's he from?" she asked.

"Ireland." Anna responded, turning over a paper with dark ink on it. It looked very professional to Brittany. "Rory Flanagan."

Brittany's eyes darted to the cabinet where the cereal was stored. "He's a leprechaun then right?"

"Brittany." Her mom seemed uncomfortable.

"I'll just ask him when he gets here. When's he coming?" She scanned the papers, trying to see if she could find a date.

"Tomorrow. He should be here when you get home. You're dads going to pick him up from the airport around noon." Anna shuffled the papers together and stacked them up.

A horn honked from the front of the house and Anna smiled at her. She nodded her head towards the front of the house and said, "Sounds like your ride is here."

Brittany grinned and waved a tiny goodbye. She headed out the front door and down the sidewalk to Santana's car idling in her driveway.

* * *

><p>The hallways were crowded with the flow of kids rushing out of school after the final bell rang. Luckily, their uniforms gave them about a five foot radius of empty space that any of their peers were wary to cross into. If anyone so much as gave one of their shoulders a brush, Santana would have snapped and shoved them headfirst into a locker. She wasn't in a particularly <em>bad<em> mood, but had gone two weeks without any confrontation and was getting angsty. Brittany hovered next to her and was finishing putting up her final posters. She was a little jealous Kurt got to keep the unicorn-designed posters, but Santana had reassured her it wasn't the picture that mattered.

After the hallway cleared out, Santana paced back and forth waiting for Brittany to finish. When she got close enough to the announcement board, usually filled with advertisements for the sports and clubs—aside from glee club, considering Sue ripped it down every time they made a flyer—Santana saw the pink heading for _West Side Story_. She hadn't heard anything about the school putting on a musical that year and was even more surprised to see at the bottom, _DIRECTOR- ARTIE ABRAMS._

"What is this?" she called over her shoulder to Brittany.

Brittany dropped her roll of tape to the ground carelessly and approached the board. Santana saw her grin out of the corner of her eye while she still read over the schedule of auditions. "Artie's directing our musical this year. Mr. Schue told us all about it in—oh, right, sorry."

Santana read the signup sheet and saw a couple names she recognized immediately: Rachel Berry, next to a star Santana instantly scratched off with her fingernail, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Blaine Anderson, Mike Chang, and Tina Cohen-Chang. She raised her eyebrow when at the bottom in tiny print she saw "Noah Puckerman." His name fell through her lips with a laugh. "Oh god, Puck's trying out? This is ridiculous. It's everyone in the glee club." The hallway was quiet but somehow Santana still managed to not hear Brittany pad across the tile floor and reach into her backpack, only to reappear with a pen. "What are you doing?" she asked her.

"You want to audition don't you?" Brittany tapped the pen against Santana's nose. She scrunched her face up and batted the pen away.

"No way. I'm not helping those losers. They kicked me out." She crossed her arms and looked at the flyer again.

Brittany crept up behind her and nudged her forward towards the board. Santana tried to force her way back and continue scowling, but couldn't help but laugh when Brittany unexpectedly slipped the pen into her hand and closed her fingers around it. "C'mon. We both know you want to," Brittany whispered.

"Do not." Santana shook her head defiantly and reaffirmed her stoic expression. "Quit it." Brittany pushed again. "Britt, c'mon, I'm not even gonna get a part if I audition."

"Why not?" Brittany asked.

"Cause, I'm up against Berry, Wheezy, and and and Tina." Brittany's eyebrows shot up and Santana shrugged. "I couldn't think of an insult."She was honestly very flustered. Her interest peaked when she saw _what_ play they were doing (and not that she would tell anyone, but Santana had her own copy of the movie at home), and did actually want to audition. But she had a nagging feeling against trying to help out her friends who had done nothing to cover for her when Mr. Schuester kicked her off the team. That disheartening pain hadn't gone away quite yet.

"You're better than them." Brittany pouted and Santana continued to remain silent. "Fine then." She grabbed the pen out of her grasp and wrote Santana's name on the sheet.

"Just 'cause my names on that list doesn't mean I'm going to show up," Santana warned. She felt her resistance start to waiver after her name appeared on the paper.

Brittany frowned. "You have to. It's _your _name."

Santana leaned her head back and sighed. "Fine." Then she got an idea. Santana grabbed the pen back and scribbled Brittany's name onto the paper hastily. "You have to do it too then."

Laughing, Brittany looped her arm through Santana's. "I already auditioned."

"When?" Santana was starting to get a little worried about how easily Brittany could get away with stuff without her finding out.

"Me and Artie had a private audition," Brittany said bluntly. Santana's heart dropped in her chest and she backed up a few steps. "What?" Brittany asked, voice overflowing with concern. It was making Santana angry that she hadn't even realized what she just admitted.

"You had _what_?" Santana asked quietly. The irritation she felt, wishing someone would cross the line earlier in the hallway, spiked considerably.

"Artie called me out of class earlier today and I auditioned for him in the auditorium." Santana guessed a light bulb went on when Brittany's eyes widened. "Oh god, S, it's not what you think."

"How do you know what I think?" Santana snapped. She was trying to reign herself in, but her anger was getting the best of her.

"Santana," Brittany tried. She eased forward and tried to lay her palm down on her forearm, but Santana dodged her.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "No, it's… let's just go. I'll drive you home." Santana walked towards the exit.

Brittany followed her closely. "Nothing happened. It wasn't like that."

Santana stopped on the front steps of the school and looked back at her warily. She knew Brittany wouldn't have done anything with Artie. Hearing Brittany mention him had just sent her over an edge she wasn't even aware of being on and she forced herself to calm down. Her frustration with the glee club had basically come out of a feeling of distrust. They were her friends, and were important to her, but obviously they didn't feel the same way. But Brittany was the one person she knew she could still trust completely; Santana just needed to remind herself.

Brittany teetered on the edge of a step and stared at her. "I promise."

Santana gave her a half-smile and barely lifted her right hand from her hip. She stuck her pinky out and waited. When Brittany stepped down two more steps and linked their pinkies together, Santana felt a little more at ease. The comfort spread up through her arm and buried itself deep within her chest. She could already feel herself breathing easier and the last trace of anger dissipating. Her lips set in a content line, barely rising at the edges to indicate a smile, and she strolled with Brittany at her side towards her car.

* * *

><p>Cheerio's practice ended the next day as it had every other day that week. Except for the first time, Santana saw Quinn under the bleachers no longer under the guise of pink dye. While that alone was startling enough, the fact that there was no one else surrounding her, smoking or picking at torn fishnets, was even more interesting. <em>'Well,'<em> Santana thought it might be a little more interesting had she not already talked to Puck a few days prior, giving her a good enough explanation to figure out what had Quinn back in a frilly dress and blonde.

_Puck hadn't gotten around to wiping the sweat from his forehead, or even bothered to mask his god awful stink with deodorant before he showed up at her house after school earlier that week. Brittany had gone home to work on ideas for her new Fondue for Two, so Santana grabbed two waters and pulled Puck up to her bedroom. _

_She already grimaced at the words before they crawled out of his mouth, "This seems familiar." She smacked his head and then crossed to sit on her bed. "Lay off, you can't take a joke can you?"_

"_Why are you here?" she growled. His stench had started to turn her stomach over. Santana scooted back further onto her bed, distancing herself as much as possible. Puck dropped heavily down into her chair and she protested when it had creaked noisily. "Break that damn chair and I'll break your face."_

_Puck twisted off the cap of his bottle and chugged a good third of it. "Ah, calm down. I'm here to talk about Q."_

_Santana inched forward. "What about her?"_

_He rolled the cap of his bottle between his knuckles easily and focused his attention on the tiny motion as he spoke, "She showed up to dance practice. Blonde, showered, and incredibly hot. Smokin' in a whole different way."_

"_Really?" Santana asked mockingly, "That's your joke?" _

"_Shut up and let me finish," he demanded. The cap fell to the ground and he hunched over to pick it up. His voice came out awkward and gargled with his chest still pressed to his knees, "She's uh, talking some crazy shit," he sat up and righted himself, "about getting Beth back."_

"_Back?" Santana asked. She didn't understand what he meant. The baby __**was**_ back.

"_She wants us," Puck pointed at himself, "me and her, to get the baby back from Shelby. For ourselves."_

_Santana didn't know whether to laugh or call him a liar. "That's ridiculous. You can't do that."_

"_We babysat, and she planted all this weird shit at her house. Stuff to make Shelby look like a bad mother or whatever."_

"_Puck! Please tell me you didn't let her do that." Santana fell forward onto the bed and propped herself up on her elbows. _

"_Relax, I went back and grabbed all of it before Shelby noticed. It's all gone." He sounded more worried than Santana had ever heard him; even when he had told her about being the baby daddy the first time around. Although, that time he was more worried about her kicking his nuts in for cheating._

"_This is so stupid," she admitted shaking her head, "Quinn can't steal the baby back. It doesn't work like that."_

"_Right now, she's determined to do anything she has to," he said, "and I'm worried."_

_Santana eyed him oddly. "Why do I feel like your concern isn't for Quinn or even your spawn?"_

"_You can call her, her name you know? She does exist." Puck looked a little angry, but he was definitely being defensive to change the subject._

"_Answer the question Puckerman," she demanded._

_He threw his hands up, "Fine alright? I'm into Shelby. What's it matter?" _

"_You're disgusting," Santana stuck her tongue out and fake gagged. _

"_Why do you care?" he asked heatedly. _

_Santana laughed. "I know they say you might meet the person who you'll spend the rest of your life with in high school, but I don't think they were including the teachers." _

_Puck's head dropped and she watched him stifle a laugh. Santana admired the fact that they could still joke around even when she was practically insulting him. Puck was definitely a good guy to keep around. "What are we gonna do?"_

_She shrugged. "We'll figure it out. Q's just fucked in the head right now. I don't know if we can pull her out of it but I'm sure I know someone who can."_

"I'm missing the pink already, Quinnie," Santana mocked Quinn who was lounging across the same faded couches that she and the rest of the Cheerio's had to carry in under Sue's request.

"I bet you do," Quinn gave her a sultry wink. Santana grinned and walked over to the discarded furniture and plopped down next to her.

Neither of them said anything and sat staring off into the opening between the bleachers and the school. Santana didn't know how to start the conversation. Anything she said would probably have come out as an insult or a command and she knew that wasn't the way to begin.

Quinn helped her out by asking first, "Where's Britt?"

"Going over the routine with some freshman. Sue's idea." Santana snorted. "We would've got kicked off the squad being as shitty as these new girls. God."

Quinn chuckled. "Still don't see why you're still there. I mean I'm the one that forced you on it, right?"

"Brittany likes it," Santana lied through her teeth. She figured Quinn knew the real reason and was side-stepping it to spare her.

She was wrong.

"Liar," Quinn accused her calmly, "Brittany told me she didn't care if she went back at all. She did it for you."

Santana went on the defensive. "Oh hey, you know what Puck told _me_ though, that you're trying to steal your baby back." Quinn's head whipped to the side and glared at her. "Wanna explain that one?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," Quinn retorted and stood up from the couch, dusting her dress off. The blinding yellow was a huge contrast with the dark couch and Santana had to blink a few when the sun caught edge of Quinn's dress.

"No but you owe something to Beth don't you? Isn't that why you gave her up in the first place?" She was prepared to be slapped, but Quinn just walked away. "Can't hold your own anymore, _Quinnie_?" The nickname was to antagonize her, and it worked when Quinn spun on her heels and stomped towards her.

Quinn's finger jabbed into her chest, "You don't get to say anything about her, you understand me?"

"What is this about?" Santana yelled, "What is going on with you? I swear I don't even know who the fuck you are anymore." She shoved Quinn away lightly and out of her space.

"Good!" Quinn screamed back. "I don't know who I am either! I keep screwing everything up. Don't you get that?" She charged forward again, "I know you're trying to help, but just, don't, okay? I don't need it. I don't need you."

"What's going on?"

Brittany appeared behind Quinn and was staring at them. Santana half expected to hear "stop the violence" stream from her lips, as it had on many occasions before when she and Quinn fought, but Brittany remained wordless.

"Nothing, Britt, we're leaving," Santana pushed past Quinn, making sure to shoulder check her slightly and grabbed Brittany by the arm. She felt Brittany turn her head around and look at Quinn, guessing there was sympathetic smile on her lips. It only made her tug harder. Quinn didn't want _their_ sympathy.

* * *

><p>The next day, Brittany walked into the choir room and was surprised to see that, while they had gained Quinn back, Mercedes seemed to be missing. Tina was sitting in the center on the top row and was crying loudly into a tissue Mike held up to her face.<p>

She tried to catch Quinn's attention, but she was busy ignoring everyone in the room. It made Brittany a little sad that Quinn never talked to her in school anymore. They still texted every now and then, but nothing substantial. She tried to think of a plan to get Quinn to talk to her again, and after remembering the confrontation under the bleachers, decided to keep Santana out of it.

Brittany looked around at everyone's estranged faces and asked brusquely, "Where's Mercedes?"

Artie turned back towards her with a frown and explained, "Shelby started a second choir with that Sugar girl we told to get lost, and Mercedes joined too."

"Tell her the rest," Puck said smugly. Brittany figured Artie was leaving out an important detail.

Artie sighed, "Because I gave the lead part in the play to Rachel and not her."

Brittany noticed Rachel wasn't in the room for the first time; she had been blaming Finn's head for being in the way and hiding the tiny girl who wasn't actually behind him. She finally went and sat down in the front row next to Kurt and Blaine. "There's another club?" she wondered aloud.

Mr. Schuester walked into the room slowly and paced a few steps before turning to them all. "I can't help but think this is a little my fault."

"You think?" Puck commented from behind Brittany. A few of them nodded in agreement.

"We're not gonna need all of these chairs soon enough if you keep making people leave," Brittany lightly kicked the bottom leg of the chairs stacked up next to her.

"Brittany." Mr. Schuester scolded her softly. The delicacy he used in his voice towards her compared with the tone he used towards everyone else made her even more annoyed.

"You kicked Santana out, Mercedes left 'cause you pushed her too far. Why don't you get rid of Rachel then too." Everyone just looked around at each other, surprised by her soft outburst.

Before Mr. Schuester could reprimand her, Rachel rushed through the door. "Sorry I'm late, I was just putting up some posters." Kurt scoffed but she ignored him. "Where's Mercedes?" Brittany saw Quinn tense the second Rachel spoke. It was like someone sent a shock through her and she suddenly sat up straighter and on the edge of her seat.

"She quit," Puck complained, "Cause you _had_ to be friggin _Maria._"

Rachel sat down next to Finn and huffed. "I'm not going to apologize. Artie clearly thought I was the better singer and he chose me. Just because Mercedes couldn't handle that doesn't mean I'm to blame."

"We're all a little to blame," Mr. Schuester added at the end of her speech.

Brittany answered again, "No, _we're _not. I didn't do anything to Mercedes. Tina, Mike, Quinn," Quinn finally looked up from her lap, "we didn't do anything."

Mr. Schuester walked forward and stood in front of her. "If you have a problem, Brittany, I feel like we should discuss it after practice."

Brittany shrugged. She was incredibly annoyed with him. Her mind drifted to the new choir, Shelby's choir, and she wondered if maybe they would have a place there. _They_, being her and Santana. If Santana was still sitting next to her, Brittany doubted she would be so upset about leaving Mercedes too. She decided to just keep quiet for the rest of the practice. Fighting with their teacher wasn't going to help anybody. _'Maybe he'll kick me out too,'_ part of her wished he would.

Finn clamored to his feet and stood next to Mr. Schuester with a triumphant smile on his face. "Don't worry. We lost two, but I brought us someone new." Over his shoulder he called, "Rory!"

"Dude, did you make him wait out there?" Puck questioned him.

Brittany felt a little excited. She had met Rory a few days before after Santana dropped her off at home.

_He was waiting on the couch and entertaining her little sister by pronouncing words in his Irish accent. Her mother was insisting on preparing a meal more familiar with his customs, but Rory had convinced her, whatever she made would be perfect. _

_Brittany loved him immediately. She walked over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table. His green hat had her pretty much convinced he was a leprechaun, but she didn't see what it would hurt to ask anyway. "Rory right?" she asked. He nodded with a goofy smile. When he checked her out, head to toe—pausing a little longer on her uncovered legs—Brittany noticed immediately and just pushed past it, figuring maybe in Ireland it was okay to be so obvious about it. "I'm Brittany."_

"_Pleasure to meet you Brittany," Rory said. _

_Her sister hopped up from the couch and left room for her to sit. Brittany watched her walk into the hallway before sitting up off the table and moving to the cushion next to him. "You're a leprechaun aren't you?" she whispered. He looked confused, so she continued, "You're Irish right? That means you have to grant me wishes."_

"_I don't understand." Rory's eyes flitted all over her face. It looked like he thought she was kidding, and that was a little off-putting for her._

"_You grant me wishes," she said again. Brittany realized she sounded a little demanding, so she figured if she offered something he might be a little more receptive. "I could give you something in return for your magic. Whatever you want."_

_Rory's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Brittany, I'm not a leprechaun." _

"_You're not?" she asked sadly. "Do you know any?"_

_He laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure there are a few back home." She couldn't decipher his strange tone._

"_That would've been cool," she admitted softly. Wishes would have been something she could use at that point in her life. _

"_Well I'm not magical," he started, "but if you need anything I'd be happy to help. We're friends, right?" _

_Brittany smiled. "Of course we are. I can't wait to introduce you to everybody! You're coming to school with me right? I have to let you meet Santana, and Artie, and Rachel, and everyone. This is going to be so cool!" _

Clad in a faded denim jacket and brown pants, Rory strolled into the room, clutching his backpack over one shoulder. "Hello, I'm Rory Flanagan." Finn put an arm around him and Rory shifted his shoulder uncomfortably.

"Rory here idolizes me, and I told him all about glee club and he wants to try out." Rory nodded.

"That's awesome Rory!" Brittany said happily.

Her phone, tucked into the waistband of her skirt, buzzed against her hip. Brittany jumped a little and fished it out. Looking at the lit up screen, she saw Santana had texted her.

**(12:21 PM) Santana:** Can you ditch?

**(12:22 PM): **Rory's auditioning, I don't wanna miss it :(

There was a little bit of a wait before the next one came. Santana hadn't been happy about the time she had been spending showing Rory around town and meeting all of their friends.

**(12:26 PM) Santana:** Please? It's important…

When she looked up, Rory was talking to the band and everyone else was chatting while they waited. She didn't really have to be there. And Santana sounded a little desperate to see her, so she raised her hand.

Mr. Schuester looked up from behind the piano and raised his eyebrows, indicating she had his attention.

"Can I leave?" she asked. All he did was nod, so she figured he was a little upset with her. But she didn't care all that much as she walked up to Rory. She put a hand on his arm and whispered, "Good luck." He smiled at her. Brittany passed through the choir room door, and was surprised to see Santana already waiting for her against the lockers across the hall.

"Hey," Santana said quietly.

"Hi," Brittany smiled. The uncomfortable air after their argument Monday hadn't really left, so she tried to just show Santana that she was ready to talk it out whenever the girl was ready.

"Let's go down to the field," Santana suggested. Brittany nodded and followed her. They walked down the hallway side by side, slowly making their way towards the back doors.

"What'd you need?" Brittany asked as they crossed in front of the trophy case outside Sue's office. She was relieved that their coach wasn't in her seat behind the desk as they passed; she probably would have demanded some sort of work out to make up for the wasted period they were spending unproductively.

"To see you," Santana said, "and to apologize." She pushed the metal door open and stepped back, holding it out for Brittany to walk through. Brittany stepped outside, following the gravel path and Santana was now trailing behind her.

"For?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She didn't want Santana to think she expected her to say sorry.

"Monday." Santana grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the bleachers. No one was outside at that time of day, and they climbed the metal steps, choosing to sit all the way at the top. Santana let go and sat with her back against the chain-link side, legs stretched out across the bench.

"What was that about?" Brittany grabbed around her calves with both hands and picked Santana's legs up, sitting down and dropping them back onto her lap. Santana grinned while she worked and when they were both comfortable, spoke again.

"Can I explain it to you later?" Santana asked. She sounded nervous, so Brittany just nodded. "On a date?" Santana crossed her legs and Brittany's stomach tingled when the smooth skin slid across her thighs.

"We have a date?" Brittany asked. _'Did I forget?'_ she wondered.

"If you'll let me take you out, even if I've been a royal bitch this week." Santana seemed incredibly hopeful, but Brittany could still hear an underlying sense of insecurity.

"You're not a bitch," Brittany told her sincerely. "Where are we going?" She figured somewhere out of town again, maybe to Dayton. There was a really good pizza place there that she would've loved to have had again.

"I was thinking Breadstix," Santana offered.

She was confused. "That's in Lima."

"Yeah, and?" Santana dropped her eyebrows, more confused that Brittany.

"A date?" Brittany asked, trying to make sure she had heard everything right. Flashing signs were going off in her head and she needed the whole picture again.

"You, and me," Santana smiled, "on a date, at Breadstix," her dark eyes softened their gaze, "together." After a minute she added, "Tonight."

"But that's in public." Brittany ran her fingers along the insides of Santana's calve, tracing the side up into the knee and then back down to her ankle.

"Two friends, having dinner together. We used to do it all the time. _We'll_ be the only ones who know what it really is, okay?"

"It sounds like a game," Brittany said with a grin. She was trying to think of rules they could set up. _'Who can keep their hands off of the other for the longest,'_ she didn't really know how long _she_ could last with that rule. Their booth was usually secluded, so that gave her more of an opportunity to tease Santana, who would most likely be on her highest defenses that night. Brittany realized how big of a step going out together in Lima was for them, and the importance was not lost on her one bit.

"You could think of it that way," Santana replied, smile matching Brittany's.

She looked so pleased that Brittany couldn't help but, making sure they were alone first, leaning to her side and kissing Santana's cheek. The skin was warm under her lips and she lingered much longer than necessary, dragging the tip of her nose across Santana's cheekbone. She placed another kiss about an inch under her temple and whispered against the skin and tiny hairs, "Thank you."

She felt Santana lean into her and whisper into the warm air surrounding them, "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>The pile of campaign posters under her armpit was frustrating enough without having to adjust them every few minutes when she grabbed a new one to put up. Finn may have been helping with taping some up higher than she could reach, but Rachel wished he would have offered to carry them for her. They had already put them up in the cafeteria, around the auditorium, and along the walls of the gym (ignoring Sue's blaring bullhorn warning them to stop interrupting Cheerio's practice). She was pretty sure she had seen Santana and Brittany snickering at them in the back behind their pom-poms.<p>

Finn followed her around with a leaden stride, helping her only when she absolutely needed it. Her latest rant had sent him into an eye-rolling fit.

Finally she had enough, "If you don't want to help me I'm sure I could have someone else help me. Like Noah, or, or…I don't Quinn maybe."

Finn shook his head disapprovingly. "I just can't believe you're running against Kurt."

She was shocked. He was supposed to have her back. She stuttered, "I-I-I … class elections are free for anyone to join, Finn. Brittany is running but no one says anything to her about it. I don't see why I have to feel bad about it."

"No one cares about Brittany. She's not smart enough and it doesn't matter if she's running 'cause no one thinks she's going to win," he said pointedly.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel turned on her heel and saw Brittany and Santana standing by the water fountains. From the look of it, they had heard the entire conversation and Santana especially heard the last part. She was sure Santana's glare could have killed her if she was brave enough to look her in the eye. Settling for watching Brittany, who seemed minimally hurt, if not unaffected completely, Rachel smiled sympathetically.

"What the hell did you just say?" Santana breeched what should have been mandated personal space and looked expectantly at Finn.

Finn, for his own part, looked like a little boy, scared and on the verge of wetting himself. Rachel couldn't really figure out how Santana managed to seem so tall standing so close to him; if she could find enough courage, she would ask her for a tip at some point.

"I didn't mean it," Finn said, scared.

"Uh, I think ya did. Who the hell do you think you are? You think you're some freaking genius Hudson? Remember that one of the four of us thought they got their girlfriend pregnant without having sex? I don't think three of us have the necessary equipment for that, so that leaves one idiot standing, doesn't it? Even though I know _for a fact_ what _you're_ packing, wouldn't get that job done either."

"Santana," Rachel interrupted.

Santana put her hand up, signalling she obviously wasn't done. "You think you're the big man on campus, and everyone will bow down at your feet, so you can go around and treat people however you want without anyone stepping up and calling you on your shit. Well that's not how it's going to work here Finnocence. As far as Brittany's concerned, and no offense Berry," she tilted her head towards Rachel without moving her eyes, "she's going to win. And she's not going to have to treat anyone like shit to do that. So before you go around and say anything about _her_, look at yourself and realize what a conceited asshat you really are." Brittany looked unimpressed with Finn's ignorant expression and Santana's rant equally. Her eyes drifted away and Rachel wished she could somehow scoot closer unnoticed until Santana turned on her and squashed that hope. "Berry, ignore your boyfriend. If you want to run, then run. Don't give a shit what he thinks, or even what Kurt thinks. Got it?"

Rachel nodded hurriedly, because she didn't really know what else to do. She could feel Finn's smug irritation focused in her direction. Maybe she should've said something to defend him, but she couldn't find anything Santana said to object to; other than her losing the election.

"Right," Santana nodded and backtracked a couple steps to Brittany, "let's go. We're going to be late for class."

They walked away down the hallway swiftly, clearing through anyone who stood in their way. Rachel figured anyone who could see Santana or was within a ten feet radius could feel the dangers of standing too close. She was sure she even saw Brittany whispering comfortingly into her ear as the pushed through the doors at the end of the hallway, out of sight.

"Thanks for having my back Rach," Finn said abruptly and dropped the roll of tape he held in one hand. She made an effort to catch it but failed, letting it drop to the ground. He was already five steps away with his back turned and forcing his way through the hallway.

"Finn!" she called after him, trying anything to get him to come back. He didn't, and continued to walk down the hallway.

Rachel leaned back against the wall of the hallway, next to an open door, and slid down onto the ground. She tried to wrangle in her straying thoughts and only managed to secure one: the need to win the election. Winning the election meant putting it on her NYADA application and helping to secure a place there. Her future was most important, and getting out of Lima was her goal more than anything else. Rachel wanted nothing more than to get away from McKinley, and every one in it. _Almost_ everyone.

* * *

><p>When Quinn opened her locker she had to step back and dodge the lingering scent of smoke encasing the tiny walls. Her nose crinkled. <em>'You would think after smoking them, the smell wouldn't be so bad,'<em> she thought, sifting through the remnant stickers and "skanks" cards she had doodled during the few classes she actually attended the first few weeks of class. She had just put the mirror back up on her locker door a few days earlier, and now stood staring at her reflection.

"Should have kept a little pink," she murmured to herself.

"I didn't really mind it," Rachel appeared next to her and leaned against the lockers.

Quinn felt her pulse quicken and fought to keep the feeling out of her expression. "Can I help you?" She couldn't help but take in her appearance; the simple elegant black dress. It was very Rachel, and Quinn was sure she was the only person who could pull it off. Her dark brown hair was clipped back on one side above her ear. The word 'beautiful' strangled in Quinn's throat as she forced herself to keep it down.

"Actually, I just wanted to tell you I'm glad you're back in glee. I missed seeing you in there to be honest."

Quinn let a small smile grace her lips. "If I said I didn't miss it when the year started, I'd be lying."

"You don't ever have to lie to me, you know that right?" Rachel grinded the one lip she had strained between her front teeth. Quinn thought it looked painful and wanted to just tell her to relax.

"I know."

"S-So I heard you auditioned for the play?" The uneasiness in her voice was painful. "Santana filled me in when she left the auditorium. Said you went right before her."

Quinn shrugged and looked back into her locker. "Nothing big. Just a background singer."

"There are no small parts, only—"

Laughing, Quinn cut her off, "I know, Rachel. Got it."

"Um, okay," the silence was awkward, "…okay Quinn I need to just ask this okay?"

All traces of her humor disappeared. Nausea formed quickly in the pit of Quinn's stomach. "Okay?" She ran a hand through her blonde bangs impatiently.

Rachel chuckled. "Okay doesn't even sound like a word now. Cause we said it so many—"

"Rachel."

"Right, sorry. We have our, history," Quinn blinked heavily, wishing the conversation would be over as soon as possible, "and while I know we ended on bad terms," she was a little grateful Rachel had understood the necessity of lowering her voice, "but I need to know, if you and I are okay." Quinn rolled her eyes at the tiny chuckle in her voice when she said 'okay' again.

"Okay?" she asked and then wondered, _'Are we?'_ Quinn knew it still hurt to even have to _see_ Rachel on a daily basis. Even worse was seeing her on the arm of Finn. She definitely didn't feel _okay_. Rachel was trying to extend her some sort of olive branch of peace, but Quinn didn't even really know if she wanted it. Rachel would assume 'okay' meant they were friends. But she didn't want to be friends. For some reason, the sick irony of the time when she had to hide her feelings for Rachel under the mask of torture and humiliation seemed a more welcome idea. She would take that over being forced to be friendly with her.

All Rachel seemed to have had left in her was a small nod, asking her question again, without force or intimidation. Her brown eyes overflowed with a hope Quinn couldn't help but indulge.

"I guess so."

Rachel's face lit up and she bounced on the tips of her toes. _'And there it is,'_ Quinn bit her cheek realizing she knew Rachel all too well.

"I have to go to class," Quinn started, "I'll see you in glee later." She forced herself to smile, not bothering to even open her mouth, and walked away. Quinn could feel Rachel still staring after her, grin secured confidently on her face, and all of a sudden felt sick. Even though she was "reformed Quinn" she decided to take some liberty and skip her next class anyway. She headed to the nearest bathroom.

* * *

><p>Santana's hands were sweaty. She tried to look at Brittany's hands. <em>'Are they sweaty?'<em> she wondered. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, underneath the table. Both of Brittany's hands were dancing around the table, rearranging their cups, sliding silverware back and forth, and turning pages in the menu. She doubted Brittany's were anywhere near as gross or clammy as hers felt.

She couldn't remember ever being more aware of herself in a public setting, or aware of the other customers. _'Do they know?'_ She twitched when someone brushed too close to their table. As if, somehow touching their table would spark the knowledge of their date into their mind. They would turn and scream and announce to the whole room what was happening at their table. Her feet were far enough back by her side of the bench in case anyone was looking underneath at their legs. Even the slightest touch could give them away. Brittany had been good enough so far to keep her limbs to herself, but Santana knew that would end at some point, so she stayed on alert. Wearing their uniforms suddenly didn't seem like the best idea. _ 'If anything happens, someone'll definitely recognize us.'_

"Are you okay?" Brittany's concern drew her out of her chaotic thoughts.

Santana tried to relax. It was a date. It was Brittany. _'Relax,'_ she warned herself. She had screwed up their first date at Breadstix and she was in no way prepared for a repeat performance. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She knew Brittany could sense all of the tension, but was smart enough to ease her out of it by ignoring it. "How was your audition? Do you think you'll get it?"

"I don't really see why not. It's not like there were a lot of other Hispanic candidates." She smiled knowingly; confidence had come as an easy act to her by that point.

"It's one of the female leads right?" Brittany asked her.

"Anita, yeah. She's pretty much the hottest character in the play so," she shrugged cockily and pursed her lips, "I'll get it."

"Maria's kind of cute," Brittany said with a smirk.

"Ew B, that's Berry." Santana scowled in mock disgust. Starring opposite Rachel would be a good way to show her talents, with no Mr. Schuester to hold her back.

"Glee club is getting so boring now that everyone's leaving. Even with Rory," Brittany shook her head, "still so boring."

"How is Irish settling in with the misfits," Santana asked, disinterestedly. She was getting sick of him being around whenever she was at Brittany's and was secretly hoping he made friends with someone who could keep him out of the house.

"They like him I think. Rachel's always asking him if there's a way he can make his accent go away when he's singing, which I kind of wish he would get rid of it when he talked normally because I still don't understand him, but yeah and Finn's always trying to control him still. Everyone else is fine I guess."

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair who's name Santana probably should have known by now, but didn't, showed up with their food: Santana just spaghetti and meatballs, Brittany's the same but with the added order of shrimp she had discovered when Santana picked them up food a few weeks before. She added two cups of water to the table and left with a compulsory smile.

"Thanks!" Brittany called after her happily, picking up her first shrimp.

"I don't really miss the club's bullshit," Santana responded finally. "I used to get so sick of the fighting crap. It's so annoying."

Brittany slurped a noodle and wiped at her face with her red cloth napkin. "You miss it though. I know you do." She grinned. "Don't lie." Santana stuck her tongue out when she saw the spaghetti still stuck in Brittany's teeth. She pointed at her own teeth and Brittany panicked, scrubbing her teeth meticulously. "Sorry."

Her lungs clenched in chuckled laughter and she shook her head. "It's fine. And yes, I do miss the singing and performing part of it. And you of course."

Brittany stopped checking her teeth in the reflection of her spoon to smile, her cheeks turning a faint pink. Santana watched Brittany look around and felt her heart rate pick up for two reasons: one, Brittany looked like she was on the edge of breaking the "no touching" rule they established on the way there, and two, she _really_ wanted to let her break it. "I really wanna hold your hand right now."

Santana wanted to give her that. It was only a tiny request. She tried to remember where everyone was seated in the restaurant—she had mapped it out on the way in—and to find a location on the table where no one could see them. She noticed Brittany's abandoned napkin and the unused knife hidden beneath it, and an idea popped into her brain. Santana laid her hand down on the table, halfway in between them, and Brittany met it, smiling. Her skin burned when Brittany's fingers cupped her hand and squeezed it tight. The middle and ring finger were closed around her index finger. She could feel the comfort radiating through Brittany's hand into her own. But when it wasn't enough, Santana lunged with her other hand for the napkin and dropped it down overtop their still joined hands. Her lips curved into a smile when Brittany even helped her smooth it out, making sure they were covered. It's not like someone walking by couldn't have easily seen what they were doing, and when the waitress came back, Santana was sure their hands would have been long since detached, but the small gesture meant a lot to Brittany, and that gave Santana enough courage to keep them together for as long as possible.

"Good?" Brittany asked, smile firmly in place.

"Great," Santana answered, identical smile reflecting to Brittany. She tried to remember what they were talking about.

Brittany brought them back easily. "So have you heard anything about Ms. Corcoran's club?"

Santana picked up her fork and twirled the spaghetti. She pushed a meatball away, leaving it with the other ones for last; besides the breadsticks piled in the container next to their hands, they were her favorite. "The one Mercedes is in?" she asked.

"Yeah," Brittany answered and picked up another piece of shrimp.

"Just that it's another glee club. And they have no one, considering McKinley doesn't have enough losers to make up one, let alone two."

"If Mr. Schue doesn't let you back into New Directions, maybe you could join hers."

The idea hadn't really crossed Santana's mind. She still felt some dumb form of loyalty to her friends, or whatever they were. But if Brittany was presenting the option, it was one worth considering. Joining the new club had one significant pitfall though; no Brittany. "Would you want to join it with me?"

Brittany dropped her fork and seemed to think about it for a minute. "I don't really know if I want to abandon our friends, you know?"

"But think about it, we could be stars of this new club right? New Directions has Rachel and Blaine, and Finn for some reason," Brittany laughed, "but we could lead a new club without fighting for solos and showcase our talents."

"I know, and it would be nice to stand out for once," Brittany explained, "but I don't mind where I am. If you leave, it's going to suck, but—"

"What about what Finn said to you in the hallway earlier today? And Kurt's pissed you're running against him. How can you keep trusting these people when all they do is treat each other like shit?" Santana was thinking it was about time to bring up their argument from earlier that week. "You wanted me to tell you why I was so upset on Monday? Well this is why. Schuester can stand up there and preach about how we're a family, but everyone acts for themselves, like selfish children. Not one person stood up for me when he kicked me out. And I know I'm a bitch, but everyone there understood why I torched that piano."

"I didn't stand up for you," Brittany added as an afterthought to her speech.

Santana felt bad. "No, B, don't blame yourself. You told me not to do it, and I ignored you. I knew you wouldn't say anything. No one else had an excuse. I can't trust them." She ran the pad of her thumb along the thumb Brittany still had lining her hand. "I want you to come with me because I trust you. You're the only one I trust. I need you there." Brittany seemed so strained and Santana let the guiltiness she felt putting her in that situation wash over her, knowing she deserved it. But it didn't change that she meant what she said.

"Can I think about it? For like a day?" Brittany pleaded. "I want to be with you, but I just need to think about it."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I feel like I'm ruining this." Santana motioned around them with her empty hand.

Brittany smiled genuinely. "You're not ruining anything. You're telling the truth."

"I'm complaining," Santana noted.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "You are not. Stop. I know you're aggravated. Just let me think about it. For now, let's just finish our food and go home and cuddle up. Maybe a few sweet lady kisses. Maybe more." She winked playfully.

"Sounds like a plan."

Santana hurriedly ate the rest of her meal and patiently waited for Brittany to finish hers, slowing down when she felt it was necessary to wave her remaining shrimp around as she explained the few parts of her day Santana wasn't present, including 'Jets' rehearsals with Quinn and Mike. Being three of the best dancers in the school, it wasn't hard for them to make up a few good dance routines for the whole production. Brittany even made her last shrimp dance out a few of the moves and Santana watched adoringly. When the waitress came back to clear their table, Santana removed her hand from Brittany's delicately, making sure it didn't seem like she was ashamed or scared to be caught. Brittany's reception was marked by a wide smile and a twinkling gaze. Santana's mouth was set in a gratuitous smile walking out the front door and she only closed her mouth when the cool night air billowed directly into her teeth outside.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! I'd love some reviews :) If you have a second, please do. **


	37. remember we were together

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: This is the first part of what will be First Time/Mash-Off/I Kissed A Girl. I just want to say that I took a lot of AU liberties with this one. And I hope you enjoy what I did with it. I manipulated the hallway scene in my head yesterday and couldn't help but start writing this out. I hope you like it. Thanks :)**

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"Ladies, this is not the first time I've come to you asking for relationship advice, and you may all find it a little redundant considering this is what I asked you about last time—even though I might mention that you were entirely useless then—"<p>

"Rachel." Quinn interrupted. Rachel looked up and noticed Tina, Brittany and Santana were all glaring from her digression. Quinn seemed the only one unaffected by her rant.

"Sorry, I just mean to say that I need help. And seeing as how we are all in glee together, and have had _other_ significant friendships," Rachel glanced at Quinn warily, even though everyone in attendance knew of their past. Quinn rolled her eyes and sat back further on the desk. "I figured asking for that help wouldn't be a big deal at this point."

"This is stupid," Santana said, "I'm not even in glee club anymore. Can I leave?"

"W-what? No," Rachel chided, "I need all of you."

"Then just tell us what the hell this is about Berry. I'm losing patience." Rachel saw Brittany nudge her shoulder and smiled appreciatively.

"Rachel, maybe this would be easier if you could just," Quinn gestured with her hand, "tell us why we're here."

"Right, um. Well." Rachel regretted inviting Quinn. Although, from her word choice, it already seemed like Quinn knew where the conversation was headed. She knew the girl was smart enough to figure it out. "Finn, invited me over to his house on Friday. He hinted at us, furthering our relationship. By taking that necessary…um…step."

The room was eerily quiet until a loud, raucous laughter broke the silence. Santana was hunched over clutching her side. She turned her head to Brittany and pointed at Rachel. "She's, oh my god. She's talking about sleeping with Hudson." Brittany bit her lip, and Rachel could tell she was trying to hold back her laughter. Santana didn't make that effort.

Tina awkwardly side-eyed Quinn and Rachel sighed. "Yes, Santana. That's what I'm getting at. I love Finn, but, I need to know if this is the right time to pursue it."

"I thought you had that whole, waiting until you were twenty five thing?" Tina asked.

"Something else has come up," Santana started a whole new round of laughter, "that has made me want to rethink that regulation on my life."

"Which is?" Quinn asked innocently. Rachel was more perceptive to her than anyone else. Initially, she wanted to just have the conversation with Quinn; they could have discussed it alone and she would have been satisfied. But she didn't know if Quinn would agree to that, and this was her only option.

"Artie proposed something interesting during rehearsal today. That we cannot understand the passion our characters felt for each other without having experienced that particular aspect of life."

"That's ridiculous," Santana said, wiping at her eyes. "Having sex isn't going to make you a better actress. Especially not having sex with Finn." Rachel a little twinge of jealousy, remembering Santana had more experience with her boyfriend than she actually did. "Unless, you're pretending to enjoy it." She nodded her head. "Yeah Artie may actually have a point there."

"But sex isn't that big of a deal right?" Her question was directed at Santana. "You've had sex with plenty of people and it doesn't make a difference. What's the harm in doing something that will help me exercise a strength that could ultimately improve my career?"

Brittany leaned forward and spoke, "Sex doesn't make a difference with someone you don't care about. But you care about Finn, and it would be different. When it's with someone you love, it makes all the difference." Santana turned her head and smiled at Brittany.

Rachel found Quinn's hazel eyes thoughtfully staring at her fingernails. "What about you, Quinn?"

Quinn struggled to lift her eyes up. "Sex changes everything. And not just your relationship with the other person, but it changes who _you_ are. We all know you, Rach," she looked around at everyone, "we know you would do whatever it takes to push yourself as far as it takes to be better. But you don't have to do this for a school musical. You love Finn, and he loves you." Rachel could see how painful it was for her to admit that. "But if you want my opinion," Rachel nodded, "just wait."

Rachel wasn't sure what she wanted to hear. She could have heard 'just wait until you're older 'or 'just wait until it means more.' But all she heard was 'just wait for me.' Rachel couldn't decide from the look on Quinn's face. It was too stoic and resigned. As if she was somewhere else, ignoring the conversation completely. Such a thoughtful answer couldn't have come from nowhere, so Rachel concluded that Quinn had checked out at the end, not wanting to hear her final decision on the matter.

"Just wait," Rachel mimicked.

* * *

><p>The curtain dropped. Everyone was rushing together, the Jets mixing in with the Sharks, congratulating each other and hugging. Rachel and Blaine still held each other center stage. They were embracing and exchanging ideas of how they could improve for the next show. When that ended, Rachel ran towards Santana and stood feebly in front of her. Quinn watched on from the corner, barely listening to Mike instruct the football players on their next dance rehearsal to go over some of the choreography he had planned on changing.<p>

She couldn't really make out what Rachel was saying, but could sense Santana's playful irritation from a mile away. She saw Santana put her hands up and exclaim "no!" before Rachel wrapped her arms around the taller girl and squeezed tight. Quinn laughed, understanding Rachel had probably given her a hug warning. It didn't seem fair; drunk Santana had hugged Rachel once without asking. It was about time the favor was returned. When Santana had finally pushed her away, Rachel ran off the stage and exited the auditorium.

Artie rolled up beside Quinn and smiled. "You were great."

She smiled back down at him. "Thanks. You did a fantastic job with this."

"One show down, five to go." He left her just as Santana approached. Her hands were knotted together and toying with each other.

"Hey," Santana greeted.

"Hi." Quinn could tell she was uncomfortable, knowing every time they had talked in the last couple months, they ended up fighting, and smiled to ease the tension. "You were marvelous."

Santana laughed. "You didn't do so bad yourself Fabray."

Shrugging, Quinn said, "What can I say? _Theatre geek_ is our calling."

"Who would've thought?" Santana remarked with a cheeky grin.

"Two hottest girls in school turned losers? I'm pretty sure no one called that."

"We're not losers," Santana admitted confidently, "just because we started going after what we wanted instead of what we thought we should have doesn't make us losers."

"Are you writing a self-help book?" Quinn teased.

Santana laughed. "Shut up."

She watched Santana look around a locate Brittany who was twirling Tina playfully, like she had done during the _America_ number. Over the loud chattering, Santana suggested, "You should come out with us tonight."

"Out where?" she asked.

"Breadstix. Me, Britts, Artie, the Asians, Rory, and Puck are going."

"No Rachel?" Quinn wondered.

Santana frowned. "She went to Finn's. He called her during intermission about not getting a scholarship or some shit."

Quinn knew what that meant. It was Friday after all. She was stupid to think Rachel would have taken any of their advice over Finn's persuasion. Especially if he was upset. Rachel would try to take care of him, and in her mind that would equate to sex; something she had denied him. _'It would just kill her for him to be denied anything else,'_ she thought bitterly.

"You up for it?" Santana asked.

Quinn shook her head. "No thanks."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Q. You tried. We _all_ tried." Santana put a heavy hand on her shoulder. The pressure was welcome and she shut her eyes, soaking in the comfort her oldest friend could provide.

"Thanks, S. I'm just going to go home. I need to sleep."

Santana removed her hand and gave her a timid smile. "Alright. Text me if you get bored."

"Will do." Quinn nodded and turned around. She followed Rachel's earlier path out of the doors behind the stage and walked through the halls of McKinley. She needed to pick up a coat out of her locker that she left earlier in the day and set off in the familiar direction.

Rounding a corner, she pushed herself up against the nearest set of lockers and behind an open door. She wanted to puke when she saw Puck with his tongue down Shelby's throat in her office. The older woman thrashed against Puck's chest and gripped the front of his shirt desperately. Through the door across the hall she could hear Puck's growling moans and watched him grab her hips roughly.

'_What in the hell?'_ Quinn wondered. She couldn't process it. Her mind told her it couldn't have been Puck. But she would recognize his overgrown mohawk anywhere. The contents of her stomach still churned restlessly when she turned away and decided to forego her jacket completely.

In the cool night air, Quinn fought to get the disturbing images out of her head. _'Puck was kissing Shelby,'_ she recollected. It made her shiver. She was a _teacher. _Puck was usually a man-whore but he hadn't shown much interest in teachers before. Not to mention she was the adoptive mother of their child.

'_Beth,'_ Quinn stopped dead in her tracks. Sleeping with a student wasn't necessarily the best way to maintain a reputation. All she needed was for Shelby to slip up on her own, and that opportunity was delivered to her on a silver platter.

Quinn had a way to get Beth back. She could get her life back. She had told Rachel it would be one or the other and on the same night when she felt like she was losing Rachel forever to Finn, Beth was practically being handed back over to her. It was a trade she was willing to make, and she decidedly started formulating the best way to finish her plan of bringing her baby back into her life once and for all.

* * *

><p>Waking up naked never seemed to be a problem when she had Brittany on top of her. Not that waking up naked was ever really a bad thing, but feeling Brittany's warm breath on her neck just started her day off in the best way possible. Santana's fingers were splayed around Brittany's hip and rested on her lower back. If the tips of her fingers tingled just tracing over the soft skin, she wondered how it felt to her girlfriend. She would ask, if Brittany hadn't of been snoring softly under her chin.<p>

Santana tightened her one armed grip on Brittany's waist and rolled them over gently, careful not to wake her up. Their legs were covered by the single black sheet on her bed since the comforter had been discarded to the ground the night before. She rested on her right side and admired the bare skin laid out in front of her. After her surgery, she was pretty convinced no one's breasts would even come close to looking as good, but even naturally, Brittany's were just better. Santana picked up her hand and traced a finger down Brittany's sternum and circled around her belly button. Brittany shivered under her touch and she smiled. The pad of her middle finger swirled around one of the larger freckles on her stomach, and moved onto the other ones in order of their descending size. She wasn't aware you could get freckles anywhere other than your face or your shoulders, and Brittany was the only person she had ever seen with them there. Santana loved them. She leaned down to kiss around them to display her affection.

Brittany's back lifted off the bed slightly as she stretched. "Mmm, c'mere."

Santana kissed up her chest, and paused under her chin. She opened her lips and sucked on the tender skin, earning a sleepy moan.

"Almost there," Brittany urged her to move farther. Santana knew she wanted a good morning kiss and teasingly avoided it. She kissed Brittany's chin, her nose brushing against Brittany's waiting lips, and then moved on to her temple, pursing her lips against it gently.

"Did I get it?" she asked against the skin.

"Nope."

"Hmph." Brittany's eyes were closed and Santana could see her eyeballs moving chaotically underneath the lids. "Let me try again." She kissed once on her right eyelid and then twice on her left. They stilled and Santana grinned down at her. Her hand went down to cup Brittany's waist, and hold her. Before Brittany could protest, she kissed the corner of her mouth eagerly. "Now?"

Brittany's hand ran along the one Santana had attached to her hip and settled behind her neck, the top fingers threading in the loose hairs she found there. "You can do better."

Santana smirked and leaned down. A breath away from Brittany's lips, she whispered, "Good morning."

"Good morn—"

Brittany was cut off when Santana claimed her lips gently. It was soft, barely grazing each other's mouths. The hand in her hair tightened its hold and drove her forward. Brittany's lips were sweet, and Santana figured it had to be the chocolate cake she had eaten the night before with their friends. She wasn't complaining.

Brittany pulled back and rest her lips on Santana's cheek. "You taste like cake."

Santana chuckled. "I think that's you."

"I don't know." Brittany turned her head and licked the corner of Santana's closed lips. When she did, Santana instinctively opened her mouth and let her inside, sliding their tongues together sensually. Brittany hummed and pulled back again. "Nevermind, it was me."

Santana laughed softly and pecked her lips. "You're a dork."

Brittany raised her eyebrows. "Says the person who was kissing my freckles."

Folding her arms and resting them down on Brittany's stomach, Santana readjusted herself, so one leg was in between the girl's thighs and she was more fully on top of her. "I like your freckles."

"I know you do." Brittany ran a few fingers through the hair hanging messily along the side of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "What time is it?"

Santana put her head down on her arms and shut her eyes. "You look. If I look I'll just be depressed all day from having to get out of bed."

She felt Brittany's stomach rumble with laughter and the way she turned her head to the side to look at the clock. "We have to get up."

"Never." Santana picked up her arms and let her face fall down onto Brittany's bare stomach. She covered her ears with her hands and kissed the skin under her lips. "I like it here."

"So do I." Brittany took a deep breath and started running her fingers through Santana's hair again. "But today's a big day for me."

Santana sat up again. She had almost forgotten about elections. With everything happening about the play, and finally joining the Troubletones, Brittany's campaign had fallen between the cracks. "Are you nervous about your speech?"

Brittany shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really." She could sense a little of her apprehension.

"You'll be wonderful. I know you're going to win." Santana knew Rachel, Kurt, or any of the other losers running didn't stand a chance. Not against Brittany.

"Thanks, babe." Brittany leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I do have something I want to talk to you about though, before school."

"Alright," Santana said.

"You were right, about glee and everything. I want to join the Troubletones with you."

"Are you serious?" Brittany hadn't said much about it since the week before, and Santana had been giving her space to think about it. "What changed your mind?"

"It's just like you said. Everything in there is drama, and I want to be a part of a club that has a chance of winning and has fun. You are always so happy when I see you after rehearsal and I want that. When I come out of glee club practice I just feel bored and sad."

Santana shook her head. "I'm not really sure if we have a chance of winning. It's only me, Mercedes, and that tone-deaf Sugar chick. Who sucks. Capital 'S' sucks."

Brittany laughed. "What about the Cheerio's?"

"What do you mean?"

"We could ask Sue. She hates Mr. Schuester, and helping Shelby win would mess with him right? So if we ask her, she would make some cheerleaders try out. Enough for us to have a decent team."

Santana could feel her mouth hanging open. _'Why didn't I think of that,'_ she wondered. "Britt, you're a genius."

Struggling under her weight, Brittany playfully pushed her away. "I am not."

She was still staring wide-eyed. "No seriously, B. That's perfect." Faster than she even expected out of herself, Santana hopped off the bed and stood up. "We have to get to school. C'mon get up."

Brittany blushed. "You know you're naked right?"

Santana slapped at the air. "Like it matters. Seriously, up. We need to tell her before school starts."

The bed creaked as Brittany sat up against her dark headboard. Santana watched her look at the clock again. "We have a few more minutes."

Santana grinned and leaned over the edge of the bed. "Let's go," she said.

Just like she had expected, and even wanted to happen, Brittany grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back into the bed. She snuggled into Brittany's neck and wrapped her right arm around her body, settling in on her hip firmly.

"You still have makeup on," Brittany said.

Santana wiped at her cheeks. "There wasn't much time to clean my face before we got into bed last night. Someone was a little over eager."

Brittany ignored her but she could still detect the smirk in her voice. "You know, we're kind of like West Side Story."

"How?"

"You're like a Shark, and I'm like a Jet. And we shouldn't be together. But we are because we love each other."

Santana's head burrowed deeper against Brittany's chest. "W-why shouldn't we be together?" Hearing Brittany say that hurt her a little. It reinforced the idea she had been holding on to since they got together.

Brittany must have caught herself and realized the implication of what she had said. "No, sorry, I didn't mean we shouldn't be together. I just meant that other people don't want us to be together. Cause it messes with how they think things should be. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it does." The only way Santana could make herself feel better was by focusing on the second half of what she said. "But we love each other, so it doesn't matter."

Brittany kissed the top of her head. "Exactly."

* * *

><p>"I fail to see how this is my problem," Sue said.<p>

Santana tapped Brittany's hip with her finger. She wanted Brittany to take credit for the idea. It was hers after all.

"Coach, you want to destroy Mr. Schue, right?" Sue nodded. "Well, this way, Ms. Corcoran would take over all glee duties. He would be gone. A-And you wouldn't have anything to worry about anymore."

Sue tapped a pen against her chin. "And all you need are a couple of Cheerio's?"

Santana nodded. "Come on coach, it's not that big of a deal. Brittany, Quinn and I were all in glee and on the squad and we still took National's for you easily."

"And where is Q now, Santana?" Brittany and Santana were speechless, waiting for Sue's decision. Finally, she dropped her pen and nodded. "Eight girls. Pick them yourselves. But so help me, if this in any way interferes with my National title, I'm taking you two down with me. Understand?"

They both grinned and nodded. "Thanks, Coach," they said in unison.

"Get out of my office," she commanded.

Xx

The Cheerio locker room was buzzing with anticipation. Brittany and Santana stood on the wooden bench separating the sets of lockers and were scanning the collection of girl's, deciding who to recruit.

"What the hell is this Santana?" One of the junior girls, Rebecca, demanded.

Santana glared at her heatedly. "Shut you're stupid mouth Rebecca. I'm here under Sue's orders, and you'll wait until I'm ready to tell you. Got it?"

"Whatever."

"Excuse me?" Santana stepped down the bench, closer to the stubborn Cheerio.

"Whatever, Captain?"

"That's better," Santana said, "dumb bitch." The girl scoffed and moved to the back of the crowd.

Brittany called her over. "I've got four."

"Me too." Santana smiled.

Clearing her throat, Brittany yelled, "Alright. Holly, Jennifer, Liz, and Michelle. See me over there." She pointed to the far end of the room and they all nodded at her.

Santana followed her lead. "Larissa, Debbie, Amy, and Heather, other side of the room. The rest of you can get the hell out of here."

Even though they didn't know what the special assignment was, most of the girls hung their head in disappointment as they exited the room. Santana laughed at the scowl Rebecca gave her before following her friends out the door.

Santana walked behind Brittany to the end of the room where the indicated all of their teammates to gather and stood in front of them. Brittany had picked a few of their strongest dancers while Santana picked girls she knew had a lot of energy and enthusiasm. A lot of them made her sick most of the time, but when it came to performing, she knew they were the best to have on her side.

Brittany smiled at all of them and clapped her hands together. "The new math teacher, Ms. Corcoran, is setting up an all female glee club."

"The Troubletones," Santana filled in.

"And you are all going to audition."

A few of their hands shot up into the air and Brittany nodded towards the tall brunette, Michelle. "I thought you said this was Sue's orders?"

"It is," Santana told them, "we're trying to get Mr. Schue fired. If we make Shelby's club look better, Figgins will see how useless he is."

"But what if some of us can't sing," Holly asked with her hand raised.

Brittany shook her head. "It doesn't matter. You'll learn. Ms. Corcoran already has an assignment set up so we can show you guys how it's done."

"What kind of an assignment," Michelle asked.

"We're going to compete against the New Directions in a little sing-off." Santana smirked. "And besides, don't worry about how you sound. All you have to do is sing back up and look good. We'll," she shrugged towards Brittany, "handle the rest."

A gallery of smiles sprung up on the girls in front of them and Santana looked at Brittany. She quirked an eyebrow. _'We definitely have a chance now,' _Brittany's sparking eyes reflected agreement.

* * *

><p>The choir room had felt divided before. Brittany remembered it wasn't the first time the New Directions sat on the far side, closer to the band, while foreign bodies occupied the rest of the chairs. Last time it was football players. This time it was cheerleaders. And Brittany hadn't accidentally wandered to the wrong side like last time. She was there by choice.<p>

She was a little surprised by the sense of longing she felt being in the same room as all her closest friends again. It's not like she hadn't just seen them the night before after their Sunday matinee. But the separation laid heavier with Shelby on her right side, blocking them from seeing her face. _'I could lean back,'_ she thought. But Santana's arm lay heavily on the back of her chair and would feel if she made any effort to look.

"Why are they here?" Finn demanded angrily. She wanted to throw something at him. Like a pencil or a rock. She was sick of his voice already and he had just opened his mouth.

Mr. Schuester walked to the front of the room and motioned for Shelby to join him. She stood up from her chair and descended the steps to meet him. Brittany was happy her seat was empty and she could now get a better look at the New Directions. Rachel was sitting closer to Finn than she had ever before and Brittany easily understood what it meant. Her stomach clenched when she saw Quinn watching them alertly, clearly knowing as well as she did what had Rachel practically in Finn's lap. Kurt waved at Mercedes incessantly, desperately seeking her forgiveness for whatever had her ignoring him. When she looked back, Brittany saw Mercedes was more focused on what the adults at the front of the room were saying and decided it might have been better for her to pay attention as well.

"—and we thought it might help our newer members," Shelby said, "to see how it's done. By watching you, and then competing on their own."

"This is garbage," Finn complained, "its all Cheerio's. Sue's behind this, she's just trying to ruin our club again."

Santana's voice rang out through the room. "Why? You don't think you're doing a good enough job of that yourself, Sasquatch?"

"Lay off, Santana," Finn warned, "you're just bitter Mr. Schue kicked you out."

Brittany nervously watched her hands clench. "So I could join an even better team that actually has talent."

"Something you never brought to the New Directions," he mocked.

"Please. Tell that to all your solo's," she paused, "or wait, I think I mean, Blaine's solos. Must hurt to lose all of that attention to a transfer kid. Kind of like losing that scholarship." A few of the cheerleaders snickered at him, knowing she was talking about Shane getting picked up by Ohio State for football.

"Shut up, Santana." Finn was pissed. Rachel started rubbing his back comfortingly and scowled back at them.

Everyone was silent except for Santana, who laughed until she was interrupted by Mr. Schuester. "Enough you guys. We're not fighting anymore. You're all friends."

"Okay," Santana said sarcastically. Brittany grabbed her thigh and squeezed, urging her to stop before one of them got carried away.

"New Directions have one day to rehearse, they're going tomorrow. Troubletones we have two, and we're going Wednesday," Shelby said.

"Mash-off everybody," Mr. Schuester tried cheerfully but everyone just looked at each other strangely; especially the Cheerio's.

* * *

><p>Students were lined up outside of the ballet boxes back to the edge of the gym. After the speeches, they were set up and everyone at the assembly fell into line to cast their votes. Brittany and Santana stood at the head of the crowd, handing out final mementos and threats (mostly from Santana) about voting for Brittany. Rachel stood with Finn and Kurt off to the side against the folded up bleachers and watched the crowd warily.<p>

Taking her name out of the running put the odds a little farther in Kurt's favor but she knew compared to Brittany, it was a long shot. Rachel had to slap at Kurt's hand to stop him from biting his nails anxiously. "You still have a chance, you know?" she said encouragingly.

"Don't really think I can compete with topless-Tuesdays," he admitted dully.

Finn frowned. "That would probably make people vote against you." Rachel glared at him. "It doesn't matter dude, you'll be fine."

"Trust me, Kurt, you're going to win. I can feel it," Rachel smiled. She had a plan. Kurt did deserve to win after all. As often as they fought, she wanted him at NYADA with her. And she would do whatever it took to make it happen. Her purse felt heavy will all the slips of paper she had spent most of her history class folding. Kurt _was_ going to win.

"Don't be so sure about that," Santana argued from behind them. Brittany stood next to her, arms crossed and smiling.

"Good luck, Kurt," she said sincerely. Kurt returned the smile half-heartedly and he nodded.

"You too Britt," he said.

Rachel could feel Finn tense up and turn away the second Santana stepped closer. "What's wrong Grimace?" Santana asked him rudely.

"Santana please don't," Rachel pleaded. She didn't want another fight to break out like it had during glee practice. Santana was pushing a line, and she knew Finn wouldn't control it much longer.

"Alright, Hobbit. I'll leave him alone," Santana said, "If he admits that I'm better than him." She smirked and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Santana can we just go?" Brittany asked nervously.

Finn was still ingoring them, focused on watching people enter an exit the polls. Sensing she had an ally for peace, Rachel spoke up, "Please? Just go."

"Fine." Santana crossed her arms and walked away.

Rachel smiled at Brittany as she passed and turned back to Finn. "You okay?"

Finn thrust his arms out in front of him. "I'm so sick of her. God, what the hell did I ever do that she treats me like such shit?"

"It's just Santana," Kurt said.

"I just don't understand why no one ever says anything to her." He pouted. "She just gets to act like a bitch and no one cares."

Kurt and Rachel exchanged glances and chose to just ignore it. They both knew a little bit more about Santana than Finn did and it was nothing he needed to know. Although on a few occasions, he had mentioned to Rachel a few insights on Brittany and Santana's 'friendship' that made him seem a lot less stupid than everyone thought he was. But she never made an attempt to dispel or encourage his guesses and did then as she always did; shrugged.

* * *

><p>"I think you need to apologize to Finn," Brittany stated softly to her on the car ride home. After the first Troubletones practice, Mercedes had suggested they do an Adele mash-up with her and Santana singing lead. Brittany had assessed the Cheerio's dancing skills and discussed a plan for choreography with Shelby. Santana had a lot of confidence that they would be winning the competition. With the combination of hers and Mercedes' voices, and Brittany's dancing, New Directions didn't stand a chance.<p>

"Why should I?" she asked irately. She didn't owe Finn anything.

"All you're doing is trying to make him feel bad. What's the point of that?" Brittany asked, toying with the edge of her skirt. Santana guessed she was trying to not offend her or cause a fight.

"Like he makes you feel bad? Or makes Rachel feel bad. Or Quinn?" she said factually. "He gets away with it. I'm just giving him a taste of his own medicine."

"But it's that gross cough syrup medicine that makes you even sicker."

She knew what Brittany was implying. That fighting with Finn only made things worse between their friends and that it didn't accomplish anything. "What do you want from me, Brittany?" she asked. They turned on Brittany's street and drove down it slowly. Santana wanted to give her time if she wanted to keep talking.

"I want you to apologize." The slowed to a stop in front of Brittany's house and Santana put the car in park. When she looked up, Brittany was staring at her expectantly, but with an encouraging smile. Brittany was too sweet to understand why Finn pissed her off so much. She didn't see that she was just getting even for everyone else in her life whose lives he made hell. If she were being honest, most of it stemmed from his attack on Brittany's election the week before. She was just protecting her from his ignorant remarks like she had been doing with everyone else their whole lives. Just because Finn was their "friend" didn't make him an exception to the rule.

"I don't want to. I'm not apologizing when I don't think I've done anything wrong."

Brittany grabbed her hand. "Fine, then apologize because I asked you to."

Santana groaned. "That's not fair."

"Who said I was fair?" Brittany smirked and squeezed her hand.

"Whatever," Santana said and looked out the window.

Brittany tugged her hand to get her attention. "Excuse me?" she mocked Santana earlier.

"Whatever, I'll apologize to him. God." Santana used their linked hands to pull Brittany across the console of her car and kissed her. "I'll talk to him at lunch tomorrow."

"Good." Brittany grinned and reattached their lips briefly. "See you tomorrow morning."

"You're a pain," Santana told her, kissing her one more time. "Bye."

Xx

Santana spent most of the day dreading her lunch period. She wanted to spend it sitting with Brittany and Mercedes, going over their mash-up and talking mindlessly about the day. But when the bell finally rang in Spanish, Brittany looked at her once and she understood what it meant immediately. "Good luck," Brittany said. Santana nodded and left the room, searching the halls for Finn.

Apologizing hadn't really ever been her strong suit. She didn't ever really see the effect of apologizing; if she had said something, she meant it. If it weren't for Brittany, half of the apologies she had given in her life wouldn't have happened. Even if you didn't factor in that most of them were actually _to_ Brittany.

In the main intersection of the school, the front entrance on one side and the gymnasium on the other, Santana saw Finn talking excitedly to Rory. She rolled her eyes. _'Of course we'll have an audience,'_ she thought, walking up to them.

"Finn can I talk to you?" Santana started weakly.

Rory closed in on her immediately, blocking Finn. "You can't trash talk Finn again—"

"Can you back off, Irish? I'm trying to apologize to the great white whale this time, alright?" Rory retreated a few steps and she looked up at a very displeased Finn again. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For attacking you and saying you won't win anything." Finn's frown disappeared for just a second. Then, she continued, "It's not your fault Blaine's a better singer and the only person who's going to notice you were replaced is you." She was pretty sure this was not how an apology sounded, but she couldn't help the words streaming effortlessly out of her mouth. "It's not your fault Shane has more talent in one arm than you do in every flabby limb on your body. I'm sorry that there's nothing about you, other than your freakish height that helps you stand out. I'm sorry that your life is going nowhere and the Troubletones are going to crush you at Sectionals further diminishing any hope of making something out of your pathetic life."

Any instinct to apologize drifted away and Santana chose to lay it on thick, hoping he would get the message and finally realize that she would always be better than him. "Keep a good hold on that girlfriend of yours, 'cause some day she's going to realize all you're doing, besides holding her purse, is holding her back. She used to be the loser, but you know who the real loser is now?" She smirked. "You."

Santana held her head defiantly. Brittany wasn't going to be happy but that didn't trump her sense of satisfaction. If Rory's face was any indication, she had settled it once and for all. She walked away with a triumphant smirk, knowing she had won.

"Hey, Santana. Why don't you just come out of the closet?"

Her feet stopped moving. People were staring at her. Every eye in the hallway turned to her; even if they were smart enough to keep walking. Quinn could have out-ed her. Rachel could have out-ed her. Even Brittany could have out-ed her. But Finn Hudson? For some reason, nothing seemed worse than standing at the opposite side of the long hallway feeling every admission of her own fall from his lips like a string of profanities. Her struggles, her fears, were put on display for anyone who cared to listen as Finn broadcasted them out into the full hallway. She didn't have to look to sense the Cheerio standing a few feet away, not daring to move for fearing of missing a single second from his attack, listening in attentively.

"You come after me for tearing other people down, when you've done the same exact thing every day you've been here and worse. Maybe other people are afraid of you, and don't understand why you do it, but we all know why you act the way you do." His loud steps echoed up from the floor directly into her ears when he walked a few steps closer. "You're scared."

Santana trembled. She tried to tell herself it wasn't real. That she had just stumbled into a deep slumber during math where she had the pleasure of ripping Finn a new one. The heaviness in her chest told her otherwise. Even in her worst nightmares, she could still breathe.

"You're scared because you're in love with Brittany, and you know there's no way she'll always love you back. You know that she's not going to stick around if you try and hide her forever. Because she's too good for you."

The chilling blood coursed through her stiff limbs. His threatening voice pierced her quivering frame, the shivering unnoticeable to the students passing by. She stood rooted to the ground, wishing it would just end, like a root canal, or one of Rachel's rants. Only it was worse. Finn was breaking her down, word by word, and he just wouldn't stop.

"You know what I think you are?" He got closer. Santana didn't know what to do. Run maybe. Turn around and hit him. Anything seemed better than what she was doing; nothing.

Finn's voice softened. She didn't understand why he was being so gentle when he answered his own question, "A coward."

He was right. She was a coward. If Brittany hadn't pushed her into a corner and demanded her feelings, they wouldn't be together. Brittany would have come out to the entire school at a moment's notice if Santana asked her to. But Santana knew she couldn't do that if the tables were reversed. She was too afraid. Somewhere along the line her image became more important than how she felt about herself. What was the point in standing up to Finn if everything he said was true? That's why she kept quiet. Everything he said, she deserved. So she took it all and felt every word burrow deep under her skin. And it all made sense. She wasn't brave like Brittany. She knew she never even would be. Finn just took the time to point it all out.

"I'll see you at the mash-off." Finn's squeaking sneakers trailed away from her and exited the hallway.

She couldn't figure out why she couldn't move. He was gone, and the torture was over, but there she was, feet glued to the spot. Part of her was still convinced it was a dream, but the other part was afraid of what awaited her outside that hallway. Santana knew someone must've heard. There were too many people for someone not to. The idea of waiting the rest of the day at school for someone to bring it up was too painful to deal with. So forcing her legs to work, giving curse words of encouragement, Santana shuffled towards the exit. A bell rang over her head as she pushed through the door, and walked down the front steps. Stifled breaths caught in her throat and the prickling tears boiled around the edges of her eyes. She tried once to take a deep rush of air straight into her lungs, and choked when she couldn't swallow.

The line of cars lead back into the far stretch of parking lot. Santana tried to remember where she parked but couldn't put the image together completely. She settled for following the train of vehicles, running the tips of her fingers over the hoods, convinced it was the only way she could focus, until she traced the familiar maroon dents in her own car. She never locked it, bringing a piece of her parent's life into her own, and opened the door.

The commotion of slamming it shut stirred the commotion inside her head and the tears broke through. She wrapped her arms around herself, digging her fingers in around her ribcage and squeezing. She couldn't remember breathing every hurting so much. Her legs bent up in front of her, feet resting on the seat, and she buried her face between her thighs. Santana tried to curl up inside herself, begging to hold the pieces together. She could tell it wasn't working.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading:) Please review. I really want to know what you guys thought of this chapter, and same goes for the next one (when it's actually posted) I'll have part two up in a couple days. **


	38. have we lost ourselves?

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Remember I said it was going to be two parts? Yeah, no, it's gonna be three. I promise to wrap it up in the next one...maybe. All I have to say about this chapter is...*sigh* Thanks to Breakdown6 for the last minute words of advice :)**

**anon: He's gonna get shit, I promise. Finn will not leave unscathed.**

**johndo: Thanks! I hope you can hold onto cute moments from last chapter to make it through this one ;)**

**tagme07: I rewatched that episode so many times, just watching how Naya acted that scene(not for this but just in general), so I could try to figure out what could have been going on in her head. Oh, and I wrote Brittana moms into this chapter for you :) Hope it's adequate. It's not finished, but a little more insight. Thanks!**

**hecksyea: Nope, I got all the outing angst coming at ya. Especially in this chapter. Sorry :( I'll fix it in the next few chapters, promise :)**

**ashleydonovan: Thanks so much. If you thought there were emotions last chapter, ummm ...good luck.**

**breakdown6: always hating Finn, unless they give him so form of self-retribution where he realizes how big of a douche he was in high school. I'm glad you liked that brittana bed moment, cause I tried to emphasize their adorableness in preparation for the angst. I think I've said the word angst to you more times in the last couple hours than I have in like our whole tumblr/fanfiction friendship lol **

**whatsyovariables: Glad you liked it:) **

**thetamarine: I'm not going to give anything away, but I'd just like to offer the fact that you are very perceptive in regards to Rachel. I hope that helps ;) And there will be more backlash towards Finn from her next chapter. And I agree with you about him not keeping up with her, 100%. Thanks for the review :)  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"Have you seen Santana?" Brittany hadn't paid much attention to New Directions performance and spent a lot of the time looking at each exit in the auditorium in the hopes Santana would show up. When she didn't, Brittany was worried. Mr. Schuester left with her former teammates and it was only the Troubletones left in the audience.<p>

Mercedes looked around and in between various Cheerio's outfits before she turned back to Brittany and shook her head. "Nope. I thought she'd be with you." Brittany checked her phone. There weren't any new messages and her concern spiked. "Don't worry about it girlie. Knowing Santana, she just didn't want to sit through Finn's singing."

Brittany nodded falsely. Even if that were the case, Santana still would have told her she wasn't coming. _'I could've ditched too,'_ she hated Finn almost as much as Santana did.

Ms. Corcoran stood up in the row behind them and attracted their attention with a clap. "Alright girls. We know what we're up against and after yesterday's practice," she smirked, "trust me I'm not worried. We're going to blow them out of the water."

Everyone cheered and clapped. After she instructed them about meeting during lunch the next day for one final rehearsal, Brittany slung her backpack around her shoulders and left. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Santana.

**(3:21 PM): **Hey where are you? Are we going home?

She leaned against a row of lockers and waited for her response.

**(3:22 PM) Santana:** I'm in the car.

Brittany frowned, but started walking towards the front doors of school. Something felt off about Santana's text. Even though a lot of people told her it wasn't possible, she always knew she could sense how someone was feeling through text messages. She found Santana's car easily, since everyone was already gone and walked towards it purposefully. When she got close enough to see through the window, she saw Santana sitting stone faced with her hands on the steering wheel. It was an odd position, considering the car was off and she didn't seem to have noticed Brittany yet.

Rounding the front end and stopping at the passenger door, she pulled on the handle. It was locked. Brittany was confused since Santana's car wasn't ever locked. _'Maybe she was afraid someone would get in with her,'_ she reasoned. She tapped on the window. Through the tinted window, she saw Santana's figure jump, but the door still didn't unlock.

"Santana?" Brittany called out loudly. "Can you open the door?"

Immediately, the door clicked and Brittany opened it. Santana was still staring straight ahead, and her hands were back firmly on the wheel as Brittany sat down and closed the door behind her. "Hey." Santana nodded briefly to acknowledge her and turned the key in the ignition. They drove slowly through the parking lot and Brittany stared at Santana. "Are you okay?" she asked finally.

"I'm fine," Santana mumbled. It was barely audible and not at all convincing.

"No one is fine when they say they're fine," Brittany teased.

Santana's hands gripped the steering wheel harder as she turned. "Yeah? Well I am."

She was off put by the sneer in Santana's words. "Did something happen when you talked to Finn?"

Santana twisted her head to the side. "Jesus, Brittany, I said I was fine. I'm fine! Alright? Stop asking me questions."

"Alright," Brittany said hurriedly. "You're fine." Santana rolled her eyes and returned them to the road.

The car was silent. Santana hadn't turned on the radio and Brittany was too worried to bother with music. She kept her eyes off of Santana, not wanting to provoke her again, and focused on her own breathing.

Once they reached the residential districts, Brittany noticed they were not going in the direction of her house, but the direction of Santana's. Confused, she asked, "Am I not going home?"

Santana slowed down and edged to the side of the road. "Do you not want to come over?"

"I…what?" She wasn't sure why Santana wanted her over if she couldn't even talk to her on the car ride home.

"Whatever." Santana stepped on the gas pedal, and whipped the car around so they were going in the opposite direction. Brittany put a hand over her chest when she heard a blaring horn behind them.

"Pull the car over," she shouted. Santana looked at her again and she could tell how shocked she was. Brittany never yelled. It didn't surprise her when Santana listened and parked along the side of the road. They sat in silence again. Brittany was trying to catch her breath and Santana just stared at her. "Please tell me what's going on Santana," she finally said.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Santana admitted and glared up at the ceiling.

"This is stupid. It's me," she reached out to grab her hand and Santana jerked it away.

"Don't," Santana said.

Brittany wanted to cry. She felt the tears burning at the edges of her eyes and had to bite the inside of her cheek to halt them. Her mouth opened but all she could get out was a staggered puff of air. She crossed her arms and looked out the passenger window. "Just take me home." One tear started to cascade down the cheek that was turned out of Santana's vision. She was happy she couldn't see it.

They drove towards her house and Santana didn't say anything, although she was driving a little more carefully than she usually did. Brittany figured her outburst had scared her into being more cautious. She still didn't understand what was going on. When they turned the corner onto her street, she worked up enough courage to look at Santana again. Her face was as pale as the tan would allow, and her eyes were glistening with restrained tears. Not knowing what the outcome would be, but hoping for the best, Brittany put a hand on Santana's thigh.

Santana's leg tensed immediately. Brittany assumed she was going to reject her again, but all she did was stare at it. They were going slow enough for it to not matter if Santana's eyes were on the road or not and they crawled to a stop at the curb in front of her house.

"Do you want to come inside?" Brittany asked softly.

Santana gazed up from her thigh into Brittany's eyes. Her own were still wet and vacant. Brittany felt like the only connection they had was her hand on Santana's leg and didn't want to let go.

Santana shook her head. "Not today," she added. A tiny droplet, not even big enough to call a full tear, striped down her face and hung at the edge of her chin.

Brittany disconnected her hand and wiped it away from Santana's face. "Okay." She wanted to scream _'What's wrong!'_ but thought better of it, knowing Santana would tell her when she was ready. _'Or not,'_ she figured. For the first time, she really regretted making her "no pushing" policy. She settled for asking, "Did I do anything wrong?"

With a tiny smile, Santana whispered, "No B." The tears in her eyes thickened, creating a heavier gloss.

Brittany leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek once. And then a second time, for longer, before sitting back and opening the door. "I love you."

She wasn't surprised when all Santana did was nod. That's what solidified the idea in her mind that whatever happened, had to do with them. She got out of the car and shut the door gently. Santana didn't look at her again. All she did was pull away from the curb smoothly and drive away.

All Brittany did was watch her go, because it was all she could do.

Xx

The next day it was like nothing happened. Santana picked her up, as groggy and miserable as she did every other day, and they settled into comfortable conversation. Brittany was too afraid to bring the day before up, so she ignored it. Obviously Santana was doing the same thing. At school, Brittany gave Santana her last morning-kiss like she always did, and they got out of the car.

When they walked into school, Santana linked their pinkies in the same familiar fashion as usual. But Brittany noticed the firmer hold with which their fingers were locked together. It felt like Santana wouldn't break the gesture even if a three hundred pound linebacker charged in between them. All the worry moved to the forefront of her mind and she watched Santana out of the corner of her eye. Something was _very_ wrong; she didn't know what it was, but she could feel it.

* * *

><p>"I really think we would have a better chance, if I was singing," Sugar protested to Mercedes. Even Shelby rolled her eyes. Santana wanted to smack her, but Brittany's laughter sated the desire.<p>

"Maybe next time," Shelby offered halfheartedly. Mercedes shook her head subtly towards Santana and she laughed.

"Or never," she said harshly. Sugar pouted and took her dress off the hanger to go change in the locker room. Sue had promised Santana and Brittany the Cheerio's locker room if they needed it, and they couldn't think of a reason to refuse her. If _Sue_ was offering, they were going to take it.

"Are you nervous?" Brittany walked up next to her and smiled.

Santana ran her hand along the edges of the dress still hanging on the rack. Shelby took their measurements yesterday and promised to make them look good. _'Woman can deliver,'_ she thought, examining the stunning black material. Santana shook her head easily. "I'm not nervous."

"You think we have a shot?" Brittany asked.

Santana made a smug face. "Are you kidding me? We have more than a shot. We're winning. Count on it."

Brittany laughed and the noise made her smile. Even if she had been pretending to be happy all day, Brittany was always the exception. She was glad she hadn't brought up the day before; Santana wasn't ready to talk about it yet. She wasn't ready to talk about how she had been walking around all day, avoiding stares and stiffening every time someone laughed near her. Santana was waiting for the consequences. They had to happen at some point and until then, she was okay with pretending.

"Well then you're more confident than I am," Brittany said. She picked up her dress and started walking towards the doorway. "Can you help me do my hair?"

Santana nodded. "Of course." When she picked up her dress, she was stopped by Shelby coming into the room with a tortured look on her face.

"Santana," she said, "Coach Sylvester needs to see you in her office."

"Can't it wait," she asked exhaustedly. Her arms hung and she tossed her head back. "We have to go on in like ten minutes."

Shelby looked at her somberly, and she said, "You need to go."

"Fine," Santana grumbled and handed her dress to Brittany. "Hang on to this, I'll be right back."

Brittany grinned at her and they walked out of the room together. Brittany went one direction and she went the other. Shelby's office was only a few classrooms down from Sue's so Santana didn't have to walk very far. When she got there, the door was shut so she knocked. She was expecting the usual "come in!" that Sue normally shouted from her desk and was shocked when the door was pulled open, revealing her very distraught looking coach.

Her arm extended back and into the room, so Santana passed in front of her. When the door was shut again, Sue instructed her, "Have a seat, Santana."

Santana's heart was pounding in her head. _'Is someone dead?'_ she wondered. Her eyes followed Sue as she walked to the opposite side of her desk and sat down in the desk chair. The air in the room was still and Santana saw Sue must have closed the blinds before she came in. It didn't help to calm her her breath caught. _'This is it,' _she thought, _'someone told Coach. I'm going to get kicked off the squad, and become a loser.'_ The drumming of Sue's fingers against the binder on the desk put her on edge. She didn't understand why she was drawing it out. _'It's part of my punishment,'_ she decided.

"You're aware of my campaign for Congress, correct?" Sue asked out of the blue.

Santana let out a frustrated breath. "Are you kidding me? Coach, I have a performance right now."

"I'm not finished," Sue said calmly. It was weird. With an outburst like that, she was usually berated or yelled at. "I'm sure you're aware of the slanderous televised endorsements facilitating attacks on fellow opponents." Santana nodded. "Well, someone has targeted me this time. And in turn, targeted you."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand."

"Apparently, someone overheard a conversation yesterday between you and Finn Hudson."

Her blood ran ice cold. Santana's hands started to tremble worse than they had the day before. She was trying to piece it together, but struggled with forming coherent thoughts. "I-I don—"Her words came out in a jumbled mess. It was like her body knew she should be reacting violently and feeling threatened but her mind couldn't process it. "Conversation," was the only word that came out clear.

"I can't help but think this is my fault," Sue said sadly, "and I want to apologize for that. I was sent a tape of the commercial and I thought it was best to show you before it was broadcasted on every TV station across the tri-county area."

Sue stood up and walked behind her somewhere. She didn't want to look. She was sure her head couldn't even turn that way anymore. All of Sue's words were falling apart in her head and the only ones she was sure of were, "every TV station."

A television flickered on behind her head and Santana shut her eyes. If she couldn't see it, it didn't exist. That philosophy worked when Brittany taught it to her when they were five, so why couldn't it now?

"Santana," Sue urged gently.

She took a deep breath and turned around. Sue pressed a button on the VCR and the screen sprung to life. Santana tried to take in all the images but the announcer was talking very fast and it was hard to keep up. A lot of the pictures were of Sue and for a second she felt a glimmer of hope that maybe Sue was misinformed. Maybe it had nothing to do with her, and Sue was the only target.

_Then why did you promote a lesbian student as your head cheerleader? _

She always hated their freshman Cheerio's picture. And there it was, with a large red circle pointing her out. Santana wanted to smash the screen. If she smashed this screen, that meant it wouldn't be seen on any other screen right? Sue was staring at her, and for once, she didn't care about showing weakness. Her tears fell; hot, blistering drops of water singeing her face as they tumbled down onto her skirt. Even if she wanted to see the rest of it, she couldn't through the watery blanket encasing her eyeballs.

The VCR clicked. Sue took a step closer and reached a hand out, Santana guessed to put it on her shoulder for some sort of comfort. It didn't matter, because she was alreadyon her feet and whispering, "I can't believe this is happening." She barreled past Sue and out into the hallway. She had struggled with the door and it slammed open against the brick wall as she ran towards the bathroom.

The swinging door gave way and she stumbled into a stall. On her knees and clenching her sides, she heaved over the toilet and nothing came out. She wretched again, and still nothing. With a dull thud, her head dropped against one wall of the bathroom stall.

She begged the tears to stop coming, but they wouldn't. It was like someone turned on a switch somewhere she couldn't find and broke off the handle. After about sixty deep breaths, she finally started breathing calmly, but the tears were still flowing. Next, she checked her heart. It had stopped beating the second she saw her face on the television in Sue's office. Santana held her breath. She felt her heart thumping at the base of her throat and swallowed to reposition it. She thought it would have been easier if she never felt it beat again.

Santana climbed to her feet clumsily. Willing her legs to work, she pushed them forward and out of the stall. Santana faced her own appearance in the mirror and had to shut her eyes. Her makeup was a mess, her lips looked red and cut where she had been unknowingly digging her teeth into them, and most of all her eyes looked empty. It was startling to say the least. Never had she looked into her own eyes and saw so little of herself. She reached up and pinched the inside of her left arm. "You're in here." She thought little of the fact there was no sting.

After a few more deep breaths, Santana gained enough composure to leave the bathroom. She couldn't remember the hallway ever being so long before. The Cheerio's locker room was closer to Shelby's office than it was Sue's and she found herself at the doorway before she could even notice. Before pushing through, she prayed a little, hoping no one was on the other side.

When the door opened, Santana let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and saw that she was alone. Her dress hung on the same locker she used for Cheerio's with a tiny note hanging off the front.

_Had to go. Hope you make it on time :) –B_

Santana ripped the note from the material and crumbled it up in her hand. She tossed it aside and brought the dress down.

* * *

><p>Mercedes' heel clicked against the stage impatiently. Brittany had her arms crossed and was watching Ms. Corcoran carefully. She didn't want to perform without Santana. How could they? She was one of their lead vocalists. Brittany tugged at the bottom of her dress and sighed. <em>'Come on Sue.'<em>

A door opened behind the stage and everyone's heads turned. From behind the dark curtain, Santana's face came into view. Brittany's heart dropped in her chest. Santana looked exactly how she did the day before, if not worse. She power walked over to Santana with a timid expression.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

Santana didn't look at her. All she did was walk past and say, coldly, "Get in place."

Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and followed to her mark on the stage. A few people—Puck and Mike—called towards the stage, "About time!" She expected Santana to snap and yell back, but all she did was walk up to Mercedes, center stage, and stand with her eyes trained on the ground.

In a voice barely audible, she heard Mercedes ask, "You okay?"

Santana's fists clenched at her sides and Brittany resisted the urge to touch her wrist to alleviate the tension. "Sing the damn song," Santana bit back roughly.

Mercedes nodded towards Shelby to start the music and Brittany took a deep breath to ready herself for the performance.

_She, she ain't real,  
>She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will,<br>She is a stranger,  
>You and I have history,<br>Or don't you remember?  
>Sure, she's got it all,<br>But, baby, is that really what you want_

The room was quiet. Santana was supposed to sing the next line, but instead there was nothing, only silence. Brittany saw Mercedes' head turn the slightest bit and the terrified look on Santana's face. All of their friends looked at each other in the audience, murmuring their confusion. In a matter of seconds, Brittany did the only thing she could think of. She coughed under her breath. Mercedes took the cue.

_Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds  
>You made a fool out of you<br>And, boy, she's bringing you down  
>She made your heart melt<br>But you're cold to the core,  
>Now rumour has it she ain't got your love anymore<em>

_Rumour has it_

Santana looked at her. There was so much anguish and pain in her eyes that Brittany wanted to ignore the rest of the choreography and just pull her into a hug and drag her away somewhere they could both hide. But the song went on, and Santana's solo came up.

_Don't forget me, I beg  
>I remember you said<br>I heard that you're settled down  
>That you found a girl and you're married now<em>

Santana's powerful voice quivered and her eyes were on Brittany once again. This time it was different. There was a longing gaze, but also a hint of regret. Santana looked scared; the same terrified look when she couldn't sing. Brittany's heart was breaking watching her struggle through the lyrics, knowing they were hitting home somewhere she didn't understand. She wanted to tell Santana to look away; that staring at her was obviously making things worse.

_I heard that your dreams came true.  
>Guess she gave you things <em>

The pause was heavy. Brittany felt the deep breath like she was taking it into her own lungs. It hurt her just like it was obviously hurting Santana.

_I didn't give to you._

_Rumour has it_

Mercedes' voice must've snapped Santana back into the moment because she fell back into the group and followed the routine. Until she had to sing by herself again.

_Don't forget me, I beg_

Santana's eyes were on her again. The lyrics resonated in Brittany's mind and she wondered if they were supposed to be taken literally. It didn't make sense.

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you  
>I wish nothing but the best for you too<br>_

_Don't forget me, I beg  
>I remember you said,<em>

_Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,_

Mercedes moved to the front of the stage and stood singing her final notes. Santana seemed focused on something in the audience as she walked forward.

_Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead._

Standing next to Mercedes, Santana was definitely looking into the audience. Before the song even ended, she hopped down off the stage and immediately started screaming in Finn's face. Brittany stepped forward, debating if she should follow Santana down and try to restrain her.

Rachel was terrified having Santana a foot away and screaming. Finn looked dumfounded.

"What did you just say to her?" Santana was pointing into his face and shaking with what appeared to Brittany as rage. Her feet carried her a few steps forward to the edge of the stage.

Rachel spoke innocently, "He was just saying you were incredible."

"No, you're lying," Santana shook her head, "did you tell her too?" Brittany could hear the desperation in her voice.

Mr. Schuester and Ms. Corcoran stood up from the back row of the audience. "Santana," he said.

Santana started shouting again, "Everyone's going to know now, because of you!" Brittany finally understood why Santana was so broken. Finn had told someone, or _everyone_ as Santana was yelling, about the two of them. Finn had outed her. Her hatred for him grew in an instant and she followed Santana down off the stage.

Rachel looked at Finn in confusion. Slowly, Brittany watched her catch on to why Santana was so upset and her expression of perplexity morphed into one of complete anger. She somehow sat further away in the seat right next to him.

Finn tried to defend himself. "The whole school already knows."

Santana's ragged words cut off the end of his sentence. "Not just the school, you idiot, _everyone."_

"What are you talking—"

Santana slapped him across the face. Hard. The room paused momentarily and everyone sat in silence. Even Santana didn't seem to move. When time started up again, Santana ran from the room and out the side door.

It took Brittany no time at all to follow her. She ran, flinging her heels off as she went so she could run faster, and followed Santana into the girl's bathroom. Pushing through the door, she saw Santana standing in front of the mirror staring down into the sink. She had a hand on either side strangling the porcelain in between her fingers. Brittany couldn't move out of the doorway.

"Santana," she said softly.

Santana snapped her head to the side. Expressive eyes that had been more or less serenading her in the last ten minutes were cold and lifeless. "Get. Out."

"No," Brittany said resolutely and stepped forward. Santana backed up. They were dancing again.

"Please Brittany." Santana's voice sounded even more hurtful when it was so broken.

"No." She wasn't leaving. Not without any explanation.

The door pushed open slowly. Quinn came in and observed the scene cautiously. Her eyes lingered on Brittany longer than they did on Santana. Her eyes were not lifeless, but sympathetic.

"Mr. Schuester said you need to go to the principal's office Santana. Sorry."

Santana didn't make any show of acknowledgment. She just walked past Brittany and hurried towards the door. Brittany heard her shoes stop and very quietly, Santana said to Quinn, "Take her home." Her heart dropped to the ground again. The door opened and closed as Santana went out.

When Quinn's hand fell on her shoulder, Brittany coughed. She didn't want to cry and coughing seemed to stop the tears from coming. "Come on," Quinn whispered and picked her hand up, closing it around Brittany's arm instead. Brittany nodded and let Quinn pull her out of the bathroom. She looked once down the hallway and saw the back of Santana's head enter Figgins' office. A cough couldn't help the tears that fell that time.

* * *

><p>The living room was dark. Santana had thrown the front curtains open, just enough so she could move around without bumping into things, and pale moonlight drifted through. Her couch was uncomfortable, mostly because it was as stiff as the day they bought it. She squirmed against it trying to find a good position but knew it was useless; it wasn't the couch. She hadn't been able to shake the tremors since she left school. Every second that passed, was one second closer to the imminent backlash of Finn's announcement.<p>

'_Fucking Finn,'_ she thought bitterly. Santana knew there wasn't much use in getting angry; he couldn't take back what he did. She would just have to live with the consequences.

Headlights came down the street and poured through the open window onto her face. She put a hand up to block them and leaned forward on the couch to look out. The white Escalade pulled into her driveway and she sighed. Her mom was home. And she had been waiting for her. The conversation was long overdue, and she felt awkward having it without Brittany by her side, but it had to be said. Recent events pushed her forward. That's why she was sitting at 3am awaiting her mother's car. _'Now or never,'_ she thought and sat up fully against the arm rest.

The front door pushed open, soft, and Santana heard the sharp clicks of Maria's heels against the hard floor. Keys jangled noisily and she wondered how it was possible her mom didn't wake her up every night with the careless entrance. Then she remembered she couldn't even wake up with Brittany whispering into her ear most mornings.

The dark shadow of her mother's peacoat walked past the open entranceway and she called out, "Mom?"

"Santana?" Maria asked. She stumbled forward at the abruptness of her stop.

Santana could already feel the tears coming. _'Stop it,'_ she warned herself. Words weren't forming so she hoped the silence would draw her mom into the room.

Maria dropped her purse on the side table and shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it across a leather armchair in the corner of the room. Santana raised an eyebrow; she had never seen her mom be so careless with her things before. "Santana? What's going on? Is someone hurt?"

Santana shook her head. _'Me mama. Me.' _"Can you just come here for a second?"

Maria walked over to the couch and sat down gently on the cushion next to her. "You're freaking me out mija."

All of her thoughts were swirling together. Knowing what she did about her mother and Anna, it shouldn't have been so hard. _'She'll get it,'_ Santana reassured herself. But it still felt so wrong to say it out loud. Why did it feel so wrong?

Her hair drifted away from her face and she shifted her eyes to see her mom running two fingers through it lightly. "Talk to me," she said.

Santana reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her comforting brushes. Even in the dim light she could see the confused emerald eyes begging her to speak. She hadn't ever had a serious conversation with her mother. And this was a hell of a conversation to start off with. There weren't any sort of imbedded instructions she could follow. Maria's wrist stiffened in her hold and started to pull away. The sensation sprung her to action.

"I'm gay," she blurted out.

Maria's eyes widened. It felt like someone cranked the temperature of the room up and Santana's grip on her mom's arm tightened. She desperately clung on, hoping Maria wouldn't pull away. The anticipation was grueling; she expected disgust, she expected anger, and most of all disappointment. That's what she was supposed to earn in response for her admission, right?

"Gay," Maria whispered. It wasn't a question. Santana guessed she was affirming it in her mind. She nodded once. "Okay."

"Okay?" Santana asked. "That's all you have to say?"

"I'm trying to wrap my head around it," Maria admitted. Santana watched her carefully. Easily, she detected what appeared to be an "a-ha!" moment.

"What?" she asked urgently. _'This isn't really a time to be quiet,'_ she internally scolded Maria.

"Brittany?"

Her heart rate picked up. "Who else would it be?" she retorted. She didn't know why she was so angry.

Maria leaned into the back couch cushion and shook her head. "Wow."

Santana felt herself go on the defensive. Fighting would've been easier than what she was getting out of her mom. It all seemed so obvious to Maria. "You sound like you knew."

Maria looked at her apprehensively. "I didn't, not _really. _I always wondered though." Santana could tell she was holding something back.

She wanted to get the spotlight off of her, and shifted onto the next topic they needed to discuss. With a bare amount of subtly, she said "I think you need to explain some things to me now."

Maria seemed shocked. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do," Santana insisted.

"No I don't," Maria argued.

"Tell me about Anna, mom."

The atmosphere shifted. All of her uncertainty drifted away and it fell on Maria's shoulders. She had never seen her look so small. Santana could see the trembling; it reminded her of herself.

"Who told you?" Maria asked nervously.

"Aunt Carmen," Santana told her.

"And does she…know about?" She titled her head in Santana's direction.

"Yeah, she's known for a while. Stop deflecting."

Maria scoffed. "You told her before me? How long have you known?"

Santana hesitated. Things were heavy on her again and she took a deep breath. "I don't know, a while."

"You could have told me," her mom said quietly.

"Just like you could have told me about being in love with my best friend's mom?" Maria shifted in her seat. "What happened between you two?"

Maria stood up swiftly and yelled down at her, "Its history Santana! You're a child. You don't need to know everything about my life!"

Santana followed her to her feet. "This is a little bit of a different situation. A _screwed-up _situation. The girl I'm in love with could have possibly not been born, along with me, because _our _mothers were gay!"

"Love?"

"Yes, mom. I love Brittany. I'm in love with Brittany. I have been since I was ten years old. Now tell me. Who are you in love with?"

"Your father!" Maria shouted.

The hall light clicked on and Victor stepped into view. "What are you two fighting about?" He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the entranceway. Maria ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair and breathed out harshly.

Santana wasn't as shaken and turned on her father. "I'm gay daddy. I'm gay." She pointed at herself. "I love girls. Is that cool with you?"

Without any pause, Victor answered, "Yup."

She blinked a few times rapidly. "W-what?" Santana was too worked up to understand. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Baby, I could hear you from the top step. You're in love with Brittany. Am I supposed to be shocked?" He seemed more alert and approached them. Maria was staring at the ground with wide eyes and didn't acknowledge him when he put his arm around her. "Did you tell her about Anna?"

Maria's head snapped up. "Victor!"

"Oh what the hell?" Santana threw her hands up in frustration. "He knows too?"

"No, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Maria said defiantly. Victor and Santana rolled their eyes in unison. There was no wonder where she got that from. "That's it. I'm going to bed."

She rolled his arm off of her shoulder and started to trample away. He caught her arm in one hand and spun her around. "Mi amor, ¿por qué no le dices?" Santana rolled her eyes, it's not like she couldn't understand them in Spanish.

"No necesita saber!" Maria yelled.

"Hola!" Santana mocked, waving, "standing right here. Knowing everything you're saying."

They both turned to her; Victor with a smirk and Maria with a scowl. He looked at his wife. "Just tell her."

Maria sighed heavily. Santana knew she was giving up. "Let's sit down."

Santana walked over to the couch and plopped down in her original spot, no more comfortable than she was the first time. Maria followed and sat on the opposite edge of the couch, while Victor sat on the coffee table, directly between them.

Her mom cleared her throat. "How much do you know?" Victor looked at her, confused. "Carmen told her. I'll be having a talk with her tomorrow."

He laughed. "Go easy on her."

"I just know up until abuelito brought you home from New York. And Carmen drove up to get Anna." Santana curled her legs up in front of her and wrapped one arm around them, the other rested on the back of the couch.

"When we came home, your grandfather had forbid me from seeing her." Her dad seemed just as entranced by the story as she was. Santana wondered if it was the first time he was hearing it as well. "He didn't even let me out of the house for the first week. He had sat down many evenings and explained to me the mistake I was making. Being with her." Victor laid a hand on her leg, Santana guessed, giving her encouragement to continue. She could hear the obvious pain in her mother's voice.

"Did you love her?" Santana asked.

Her mom looked at her dad and then back. "I did. But it didn't matter. We were a Catholic household. Homosexuality wasn't just not accepted in our house, it was rejected. My mother and father spent weeks explaining the shame I was bringing to the family name. And eventually, I started to believe it."

"Why?" Santana wondered.

Maria laughed, despite herself. "I was nineteen Santana. I had nothing. No college, no job. I was already a disappointment. The Cortez's were respected in our neighborhood. If someone caught wind of my fling with Anna, it would have ruined that for everyone. I did what was best for my family."

Santana shook her head trying to clear her mind. She didn't want to think of doing that to Brittany. Even her namesake wasn't strong enough to keep them apart. But wasn't that what she did when she left Brittany at school that day? The second her appearance was threatened, she bailed. Santana hated to see the parallels between her and her mother, especially already knowing one of the possible endings.

"What about when you were allowed out of the house again?"

Victor squeezed her leg. "The first place she went was church. That's at least where I saw her first."

Maria nodded. "Anna was sitting in the front with her parents. I saw them and didn't understand why they didn't look as disappointed as mine. They looked so comfortable around her, when my mom and dad couldn't bear to even look at me. I couldn't handle it and snuck out." A bittersweet smile graced her otherwise contorted expression. "I saw someone hanging face first into a window around the back and watched him topple inside. When I walked up to the window to investigate, I saw him," she looked at Victor, "drinking the father's wine. We had a few dates in high school, nothing special, so I sat down and drank with him."

"I jimmied the lock and stole his personal stash," he said proudly, "did it every week."

Santana chuckled at him and looked back at her mother. "Didn't she ever try to talk to you?"

"She did, once." An equally pained expression replaced the last one. "At the grocery store. I was reading magazines in the line and she tapped on my shoulder. I knew who it was the second I felt it. When I turned around she smiled at me. I could tell she was scared, and so was I. All she said was 'hi' before I felt a sharp tug on my arm. Your abuelita pulled me forward and started warning me in Spanish about offending god and 'remember my shame.' I didn't have to turn around to feel Anna still standing there. I could have cried." Her eyes watered up and she swiped at unshed tears. "Then I didn't see her for months."

"Months?" Santana asked. She knew they ended up friends—after all that's how she and Brittany met—but she had a lot of holes to fill in.

"I spent a lot of time with your father. We both were a little childish," they exchanged a knowing glance, "but we grew up together in a short amount of time and fell in love. In the fall, I started college at Lima Tech and he went to Rhodes, so we weren't far apart. But when I showed up in my first class, there she was. I didn't know what to do, and I knew she saw me. So I did what felt natural. I sat next to her. We didn't talk. Every day I'd show up, sit down next to her, and we'd go the whole class not saying one word. I think I failed every test I took, worrying about what she was doing. If she wanted to talk to me or if I was being stupid by sitting there. One day I sat down and when I was pulling my jacket off she asked me about the weather. I was so stunned I couldn't get the jacket off. I just stared. Then she smiled."

Santana grinned, thinking of Anna's smile. It was Brittany's smile, so she knew the effect it could have. "And you were friends again? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Maria said. "We never talked about us. We were friends first, so everything else came back easily. By second semester, I was pregnant with your brother and engaged to your father and she was dating Tony. The rest of it fell into place."

"You weren't worried about anything?" she asked her dad.

He shrugged. "I trusted her. She didn't tell me much about it at first, but when Anna started coming around I had a hunch. They were a little awkward around each other at first. The signs were there and I asked her about it one night." He emphasized, "Huge fight."

"You blindsided me," her mom said. "It's not every day your fiancé asks if you've ever had sex with your best friend."

"Subtle," Santana added and they all shared a laugh.

"Santana now I need to ask you something," Maria said suddenly.

Her hands felt clammy and she took a deep breath. "Alright."

"You seemed upset when I got home. Did something happen between you and Brittany?"

"No," Santana shook her head, "well yeah. But because of something bad that happened."

"What happened?" Her father asked.

Santana felt her hands start shaking and she shoved them underneath her butt. The tears came back and she had to look at the curtains to calm down. "Someone at school. Someone…a friend. Someone I thought was a friend…he outed me. In the hallway."

Victor's hands balled into fists. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," Santana said.

"It does matter," he argued. "I'm going to kick his ass."

"Victor," Maria said, "calm down. You're not going to beat up a teenager."

"The hell if I'm not." He looked at Santana. "You still friends with that Puckerman kid? I'll have him do it. What's his number? Where's your phone?" His eyes shot around frantically, searching for it.

"Stop. That's not what's important." She looked away again and picked at the back of the couch.

After a long pause, she continued, "Someone overheard him. They-they overhead him and they told someone." Her chest heaved painfully. "There's an ad, Coach showed it to me. It's going to air on TV and everyone's going to know." Tears fell down her face, and her voice shook. "_Everyone _is going to know. And I can't do anything. And I'm scared. I'm so scared." Maria moved forward and wrapped her arms around Santana's trembling figure. She heard her dad edge closer and he wrapped his arms around both of them.

"It's going to be okay," Maria tried to reassure her.

Victor's hand ran down the back of her head and squeezed her neck. "We'll get through it."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She clung to her mom's waist so hard the muscles in her arms burned. She didn't want to hurt them. If her mom's parents were so disappointed, then why wouldn't they be equally disappointed in her? She hoped if she apologized initially they would hate her less.

"You don't have to be sorry," Maria kissed her forehead, "you don't have to be sorry, baby. You didn't do anything wrong."

"P-people are going to know. They're going to say bad things about us. Why aren't you worried?" Her words were so broken and she crumbled hearing the weakness. She wasn't used to the defeated tone of her own voice.

"We are worried," Victor said, "worried about you."

Santana shook off their arms and looked between them. "But I'm screwing everything up for our family."

"No you're not," Maria said. "Your father and I aren't your grandparents, Santana. We aren't ashamed of you."

"Why not?" It didn't make sense. She should have her bags half-packed and out of the door. Maybe they'd set the timer like Quinn's family did.

Her mom cupped her face and ran thumbs underneath her eyes, clearing the tears away. It didn't stop them from flowing, but the effort was comforting. "You can love whoever you want to love Santana. It's not our place to tell you different."

"I don't understand," she said. "You're supposed to freak out. And tell me I'm an embarrassment."

"Were you not listening to anything I just said?" Maria asked.

"You stopped loving Anna because you realized it was shameful," Santana answered.

Finally she saw the disappointed look she was expecting. "That's not what happened."

"Yes it is. You love dad now."

"That doesn't mean I don't love Anna anymore." She looked at Victor awkwardly and he nodded. It looked like she was asking for permission. "I'll always love her. We had our time, but it ended. Even if it wasn't our choice, we knew there was no going back to what we were. It wasn't practical. But you and Brittany aren't us. I can't speak for Anna, but I'm going to support you."

"Me too," her dad agreed. Maria grabbed his hand. "We love you, and we love her. She's a great girl. And we're not going to stand in the way of that. And as far as this ad or whatever goes, we'll protect you the best we can."

"But you know it's not going to be easy," Maria added.

The solemnity broke Santana's heart. A minimal joy bubbled under the surface, knowing her parents accepted her, but it was buried under the severity of her situation. "Y-yeah, I know," she stammered.

"You're going to need each other more than anything," Anna advised. "Whatever happened between you two, it needs to be fixed. No matter how much you love each other, it won't survive if you aren't suffering together. I'm convinced that's why we couldn't make it work. Under all of the scrutiny, we didn't have each other to fall back on. You need Brittany, and she's going to need you."

She needed Brittany even if they weren't going to be ridiculed and made fun of every day for the rest of the year. McKinley wasn't going to be a hall of acceptance, and Santana buried her pride, knowing it was the cause of their fight. More than ever, all she wanted was to be with Brittany; curled up in her arms and safe. Other than where she was right then, it seemed like the only place she would ever feel that protection again.

"What about grandfather and grandmother?" They were a regular fixture in her life and she knew they would see the commercial. And from the story she had just been told, Santana knew they weren't going to be accepting.

"Honestly," Maria said, "I think you need to tell them."

Santana sat up. "Why?" she protested.

"Would you rather them find out on their own?"

'_Kind of,'_ she thought. "But what if they get angry?"

"They would be madder if they had to find out that way. If you aren't going to tell your grandfather, then at least tell your abuelita. She deserves to hear it from you."

It sounded like a horrible idea. Since her aunt Carmen didn't have any children, Santana had always been the center of attention. Her brother, who had joined the army at eighteen, was almost shunned from the family for choosing to abandon them. Abuelita especially favored her, being the only grandchild who actually wanted to spend time with them. She knew if something like this happened, and she chose to keep it a secret, they would despise her even more.

"Alright, I'll tell her." Santana grabbed a hand from both of them and squeezed. "Thank you. For everything." Her parents weren't always the most attentive, but it seemed like they would be there for her when she needed it. It's all she ever wanted from them.

"We love you, Santana," her mom said, "that's never going to change."

"I love you guys too. But can you go to bed now, though?"

They looked at each other. "Why?" Victor asked.

"It's easier to sneak out when you're asleep," she said.

Xx

Brittany slept in an empty bed voluntarily most days of the week. Some days Santana wanted to stay home, and other days they curled up together. But it was different when she knew Santana refused to be there. Days like that day. The severity hit her the second Quinn grabbed her arm in the bathroom. Santana was gone.

She didn't even understand it completely. One minute Santana was slapping Finn, one minute they were standing at opposite sides of the bathroom and Santana was yelling at her, and the next she was sitting in Quinn's passenger seat, staring out the window on her way home. No one gave her an exact explanation, but she figured she knew what had happened.

"_Everyone's going to know now, because of you."_

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Santana so upset. Probably the day she had rejected her for Artie. The memory made her curl up against the pillow she was cuddling. It was a poor substitute for what she really wanted to have her arms around; or _who_.

The air in the room shifted. Brittany hadn't heard anything but the gentle tick of her old alarm clock. They went to an amusement park once, when they were eleven, and in the arcade Brittany saw, along the prize wall, a _Powerpuff Girls_ analog clock. She was determined to get it, and even more so, Santana was determined to get it for her. They spent the entire day there until they won enough tickets to take it home. The rest of the day, and most of the night, Santana explained to her how to read it and what hand meant what. She could have replaced it a long time ago, seeing as it failed to keep accurate time anymore, but couldn't bring herself to throw it away. So there it sat, filling her room with soft noise.

"Hi," the voice startled her and she rolled over in a rush.

Santana stood next to her bed, wearing a black tank-top and grew sweatpants tucked into her boots. Her hair fell tangled around her neck and a sheen of sweat plastered her bangs to her forehead. Brittany figured she must have been running. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I needed to see you," Santana admitted. "I just." A pause. "I need you."

Brittany didn't have to debate pulling her covers down and tossing her pillow aside, making room for Santana. Santana kicked off her boots and climbed into the bed. She crawled into Brittany's widespread arms and tucked herself neatly under her chin.

Brittany ran her fingers through Santana's hair and twirled the bottom curls around her hand. "Are you okay?"

Santana whimpered into her chest and she squeezed the girl's shoulder. She could feel the labored breaths her girlfriend was taking and kissed the top of her head. "No," Santana finally whispered.

"Can I help?" she asked.

"You are."

Brittany didn't want to smile but she did anyway. She rested her cheek against Santana's head and asked, "Talk about this tomorrow?"Santana nodded into her chest. "Go to sleep then."

Santana shifted her head and Brittany guessed it was so she could speak more clearly. "Do you still love me?"

Her heart constricted. She knew something bad must've happened and was missing out on a horrible secret, but it had to wait until morning. "Always."

Santana put her head back down under her chin and let her rigid body loosen. Brittany could sense her exhaustion and wondered what could have caused it. She pushed the idea to the back of her head and just held Santana close. It was all she could do.

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><p><strong>an: Thanks for reading. Seriously, I know that was rough. I just hope it wasn't too over the top. Also I want to mention that in my timeline, Santana does come out to her grandmother, I'm just not sure if i'm going to write that scene yet. I'm leaning towards no, but if you want it I will. Just review and mention if you want it or not. Thanks again :) **


	39. i need to feel you here with me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: This isn't much, but I wanted to get something up since I'm going out of town and will be away from my computer for a few days. I hope I don't disappoint any of you by not having everything wrapped up in this chapter, but it's a start. A lot of this chapter ended up being Finn bashing lol and I used Santana as a mouthpiece for my dislike of Finn.  
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**johndo: Uh hell yeah they will haha. Brittana is perfection. Glad you liked it :)  
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**tagme07: thanks! I still don't really know if I'm going to write out the abulelita scene yet, and like you said I feel like we get why on the show she freaks out so much from Maria's story. I just think the show did it so well, I don't know if I want to touch it.  
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**hecksyea: Ha thanks :) Eventually I'm planning on bringing Brittana and their parents together to talk it out fully, so you'll get Anna's side.  
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**blueskkies: Eh, I made her dad super trusting I guess. I'm sure it was weird for him. Maybe I'll get more into that later lol**

**breakdown6: When I first started writing that chapter, I had plans for Santana to fall right into Brittany's arms and cry in the bathroom. But after writing the scene with Sue, it just didn't feel right. I wanted her to be devastated emotionally. Also, no, your heart = mine. I'm not giving it back until I post the last chapter. Thanks for your review! :)**

**tuckp3: haha, I don't know what I'd do in a spinoff for Maria/Anna, I guess it'd have to be in the past, but that would be utterly disappointing to know there is no happy ending lol sigh, i'm sorry to break your heart, I seem to be doing that to a bunch of people with this story haha. happy you liked it though, thanks for the review :)  
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**thetamarine: Requested and fulfilled! (she was gonna do it anyways though ;)**

**also thanks to gleeknumber1, ashleydonovan,genetic, gmac62, musicflowswithin, blueashke, anon (i was secretly wondering if you were the same anon from before), supergleek08: you guys are awesome and I love all the great reviews!  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>Brittany usually woke up first. And that morning wasn't much different. She wasn't even convinced she had ever fallen completely asleep. If the trembling Santana experienced awake was frightening, it was nothing compared to how she shook when she was sleeping. And Brittany didn't really know what to do, knowing waking her up was the worse choice. So she just held her and hoped the fits would end. Around six in the morning they did and Brittany felt comfortable enough to untangle her arms from Santana's body and crawl out of bed.<p>

The sun hadn't risen yet, so it didn't make sense to open the window shades. Even if it had, she planned on letting Santana sleep until the last possible minute before she had to be awake. Brittany navigated her dark room and only stumbled once over Santana's discarded boot. She froze in place and her eyes darted back to Santana, hoping she hadn't woken up from hearing the loud thump. Luckily, all she did was stir on the bed and pull the blanket up around her shoulders. It felt like a moment to smile, but Brittany restrained herself.

She pulled her door open and grabbed a green hoodie off the desk on her way out. The house was just as dark as her bedroom and Brittany padded down the steps, slowly and noiselessly. Her mom and dad would have been long gone by then and her sister was still comfortably asleep. On her way to the kitchen, Brittany clicked on the hall light; just to give herself some sense of daylight. She wasn't usually tired in the morning, but if the house stayed dark, she would easily fall back asleep. _'It's not like the downstairs will bother anyone,'_ she thought, walking over the cool, tile floor on her path to the fridge.

The fridge pulled open loudly and she peered inside. _'What would Santana want for breakfast,'_ she wondered. Her first instinct would have been to make pancakes, which actually would be her mom making pancakes, and seeing as Anna had left a long time ago, it was out of the question. Before closing the fridge, Brittany grabbed the bottle of milk and moved onto the freezer. Pulled open, she surveyed the contents and landed on a box of frozen waffles. She reached in and pulled the box out, dropping it along with the bottle onto the center island. She kicked the freezer door closed and reopened the refrigerator, pulling out the tub of butter.

After making them both a plate of waffles, and pouring two cups of milk, Brittany made the first trip back into her room with the milks. _'If I brought the waffles first, she would wake up before I brought the milk back,'_ and she really wanted to be there when Santana woke up. It seemed like that would be the most stressful part of her day, even counting when they also had to go to school.

Cuddles and Lord Tubbington followed her up the stairs on her trip with the food, and Brittany tried to shoo them away with her foot. Crossing the threshold into her bedroom, she backed up into the door to close it gently, locking them out. She walked over to the bed cautiously, with a plate in each hand, and sat down on the edge with her back to the headboard. Only being a single, there wasn't much room—they fit only when one set of their limbs was overlapping—but she edged her way on without disturbing Santana. She placed one plate on her lap once both legs were on the bed, and caressed Santana's shoulder with her free hand.

"Babe," Brittany rubbed purposeful circles into her skin, "Santana, wake up."

Santana's eyes fought against opening. Her eyelids would divide a fraction and then clamp shut, only to repeat the process over again. Brittany watched her focus on the thigh she had sitting next to her head and use it as an anchor to clarity.

"I made us waffles," Brittany said sweetly. She hoped it would work to make her more alert. Debating against clicking on the lamp next to her on the side table, Brittany watched Santana struggle to pull her body up against the same headboard she rested against.

"Waffles?" Santana muttered.

Brittany nodded. "Chocolate chip" She handed the plate in her hands over to Santana and pulled her own up to replace it.

Santana looked around the comforter and on the table closest to her. "No forks?"

Brittany's head fell back against the wall. "I knew I forgot something."

Santana's smile was small and pleasing to Brittany's eye. She would take anything she could get. "No problem, we'll just eat 'em like we used to." She grabbed one up off the plate and held it between her thumb and index finger, ignoring the butter dripping onto her hand. "Cheers?"

Brittany grabbed a waffle off her own plate and held it up in the air. "Cheers," she repeated. They tapped the food together and each took a bite, Brittany's slightly more enthusiastic than Santana's. Her stomach had been growling the whole time she made them and it was lucky all four made it upstairs uneaten.

Santana's head fell back and she groaned in appreciation. "So good."

"I wanted to make you pancakes."

Santana took another bite and seemingly debated it. "These were a good choice."

Brittany grinned as she swallowed a thick bite of her second waffle. She grabbed her glass from the side table and took a drink before handing it over to Santana; it felt like too much effort to reach over and grab the other one. Finishing her plate, she took the cup back and drank again before setting it back in its place. Santana continued to eat at a slower pace.

She wanted to bring it up but wasn't sure how to start the conversation. _'Maybe I should let her finish eating at least,'_ she mused, handing Santana the other cup after the girl motioned for it. Whatever was happening involved her too, so she felt entitled to answers. But caring for Santana came first; it always would. Especially as little as Santana needed her, Brittany reveled in being able to help.

"This is painful," Santana whispered, setting her plate on top of Brittany's empty one.

"The food?" Brittany asked. "Was it bad?"

Santana leaned her head against the wall and let it sway back and forth slowly. "I know you want to ask me. Just do it."

"What happened yesterday?" She put their combined plates on the table and settled back on the bed comfortably.

Santana's head drifted far to the right and landed on her shoulder. "If I cry, just let me keep going, alright?"

"Alright"

"Tuesday, Finn," she stopped momentarily, "Finn. Finn's a dickhead."

"We know this," Brittany said easily, "keep going."

"He called me out on Tuesday, in the hallway. About us." Her words were surprisingly harder than Brittany expected. She expected the trembling, quiet girl from the night before, but her voice suggested the old Santana, the guarded Santana. "Someone overheard him, and now there's this commercial that has pictures of me and says I'm a," she stopped again, "a uh…" She grabbed the blanket and twisted the material between her fingers mindlessly.

"You're you," Brittany filled in.

Santana's cheek rose against her shoulder. "Yeah. Yesterday Coach showed me the tape. That's why I was so upset."

Brittany wanted to cry at seeing Santana's worst fears slapping them both in the face. She could remember the haunting desperation in Santana's voice they day before when she cried _"Everyone"_ at Finn. _Finn._ Brittany wasn't sure she could hate anyone for a long time until he came along. Silently watching all of his stupidity and selfishness had calmly upset her over their four years in high school. She didn't understand why everything had gotten so screwed up the second they stepped foot inside McKinley High. But every one of her friends had been scared by high school, and Santana was the freshest victim.

"I hate Finn," Brittany said aloud.

Santana chuckled. "I know you do."

"Don't you?" she asked.

"He's an asshole," Santana said, "but I don't hate him."

Brittany craned her neck and looked Santana in the face. "I don't get it."

Santana shrugged and Brittany immediately sensed the defeat before she even started speaking. "What's the point? It's not like I can _do _anything about it. No one's scared of me now, might as well accept all the bullshit."

"That's stupid."

"Is it?" Santana asked with an edge.

"Yeah it is," Brittany said, "_my_ Santana would never accept defeat that easily."

The covers dropped out of Santana's hand as she sat up. "Your Santana went lost somewhere between Sue's office and the auditorium yesterday."

"Then why are you here?" Brittany asked stiffly. Santana's head darted to the side and stared at her with sullen eyes. "If you're giving up then why don't you just break up with me?"

"Cause I need you," Santana admitted hoarsely. "And I love you."

"I love you too, but I'm not going to mourn with you over the loss of your popularity. "

"It's not about that." Santana raised her voice. "For the rest of my life, everyone here is going to know this about me. People who have never met me will judge the hell out of that ad. I never get to just be Santana anymore. I have to be Santana the teenage lesbian."

"Only if you let them treat you differently. This doesn't make you a bad person. It's who you are," Brittany tried.

"And people already hate me. I just gave them a more definite reason to put with it."

Brittany got up out of the bed and put her fists on her hips. "No one hates you," she shouted, "stop saying people hate you. Everyone in glee club loves you, besides that idiot, and your parents love you. My parents love you. Your brother loves you. And I love you. Isn't that enough?"

Santana leaned forward and grabbed Brittany's hand off her hip, pulling her back to the bed. Brittany sat down and crossed her legs underneath herself. Santana mirrored her position, their bare knees touching, and laid a hand down on either of her thighs. "I'm scared Britt."

Brittany gazed back into dark brown eyes focused on her own. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably and all she wanted to do was pull Santana against her chest and squeeze her until all the sadness disappeared. She laid both of her hands over Santana's and floated the tips of her fingers over them. Santana's eyebrows twitched and then her eyelids shut, comforted. Brittany focused on her breathing, trying to match her own to it. She wanted a sense of connection, and grasped at the tiny opportunity.

"We could stay home today," she suggested. It sounded like a good idea, knowing Santana could use a good day in bed to relax through the stress she had been under the last two days. Barely detectable, Santana's head shook. "Why not?" Her voice felt too loud for the room.

"It'll be worse if I don't go. They'll think I'm ashamed of it and use that against me later."

"Aren't you?"

Her eyes were still shut and Brittany could tell she was focusing on her fingertips. "That would mean I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" Brittany asked. She was almost as scared as Santana seemed to be. Not so much for herself—like she said once, people weren't going to be surprised about her—but for Santana.

"Nope"

When Brittany's hands stopped moving, Santana's eyes opened. "I'm not going to be there every minute today, but if you need me, text me and I don't care what I'm doing and I'll be there, got it?"

A tiny smile appeared on Santana's face. "Got it."

"We have to get ready." Brittany looked at the clock and frowned. "Do you want to take a shower?"

"Will you take one with me?" Santana asked. There was no sexual implication, but more of a plea.

"Mhm." Brittany stood up off the bed and pulled Santana along with her. They walked out into the hallway, hands clasped between them, and walked towards the bathroom.

She felt Santana's head turn back towards her door. "Is Chrissy home?"

Brittany shook her head as they passed through the doorway into the bathroom. "No, she probably left like ten minutes ago for the bus." She pulled the curtain back and played with the faucets until she found a warm enough temperature. When she turned around, Santana already had her clothes off and was in front of the closet, pulling out towels. Brittany let her eyes wander over the flawless skin and was startled when Santana turned around, catching her.

"Sorry," she muttered.

Santana set the towels down on the lid of the toilet and stepped across the tiny space in front of Brittany. She wrapped both hands around Brittany's neck lightly and pulled her down for a kiss. Brittany's lips buzzed against Santana's and she parted them slightly, letting Santana's capture the top one tenderly. Her hands rose to hold Santana's waist and she rubbed her thumbs against the sharp hip bones. Santana's body pressed against hers and she could feel everything warm against the fabric of her clothes. Her arms stretched around Santana's back and looped around. She used a little of her leverage to pull Santana higher so she didn't have to lean down as much and their lips detached. To compensate, Brittany lined Santana's jaw with tiny kisses, stopping at particular spots where Santana's throat hummed, knowing they were more sensitive than others.

Hands were pushing her back and Brittany drifted back enough to separate their bodies, but not enough to break her hold. Santana's hand drifted under the bottom of her gray tank-top and ran over her skin once before slipping out and tugging the shirt off of her body. She ran both hands down either side of Brittany's body and into the top of her pajama shorts. Her fingers hooked into the material as well as her underwear, and slid them down far enough that all Brittany had to do was bend her legs slightly so they drifted down around her ankles.

Santana stepped around her and into the shower, underneath the running water, her head facing the wall. Brittany stepped in behind her and shut the curtain. The water beaded down around Santana's neck and Brittany leaned forward to kiss her shoulders. Santana's hands reached back and grabbed her arms, pulling them around her body. Brittany had to step forward so her front was resting against Santana's back. Her head stretched forward and landed on Santana's left shoulder, and their cheeks slid together.

Brittany knew that they only had a little time left before they would have to leave for school. She also knew if they stayed like that, there was no way they would end up there on time. But she couldn't find it in herself to care all that much, knowing that as long as Santana wanted to stay in that shower, she would stay there with her.

* * *

><p>Quinn and Rachel stood at Rachel's locker and watched everyone pass by them. After homeroom, they had ten minutes before they had to be in their next class and naturally found each other there. Or at least, Quinn had found Rachel.<p>

"Did you see them yet?" Quinn asked nervously. They had been waiting for Santana and Brittany to show up at school, knowing it was a long shot. As well as everyone else at the school, they had seen the commercial last night on television—normally Rachel and Quinn would have been doing other, more productive things, but just like all of their friends, they tuned in to see if the rumor was true. Quinn watched it in her own room, fearing the backlash for her best friend.

"No," Rachel said impatiently. She stood on her tip toes and searched over the crowd to the entrance. Quinn wanted to laugh at how ridiculous she looked, but kept it to herself, not in the mood to be yelled at so early in the morning. "They didn't text you did they?"

"No, and I didn't want to bother them. I honestly don't think Santana's going to show up today. And Brittany, I don't even know. She could but I doubt she will."

Rachel leaned against her locker and brushed her hands down the black skirt she was wearing. "I feel so bad for them."

"Me too," Quinn said, joining Rachel against the lockers. Their arms touched and she jolted away. Rachel didn't seem to notice.

The hallway went quiet with the opening of doors to their right. Quinn watched everyone turn their heads and some snickering under their breath. She felt anger boiling under her chest and could have slapped them for being so obvious. Cheerio's red drifted through the middle and she didn't have to guess who it was.

She saw Brittany first. Her arms were crossed and she frowned at anyone who stared at her too long. There was a pleasant defiance as she walked through the sea of students and cleared the path. Quinn noticed there was no smile or joy in her expression, but she definitely saw pride. When Santana came into view, Quinn figured Brittany's pride was supposed to count for both of them. Santana's arms were crossed loosely, and she had her hands on either elbow, arms fully to her chest. Her eyes were centered on the ground, following Brittany's footsteps without looking up and Quinn felt the tears boiling around the edge of her eyes. She had never seen Santana so obviously wounded. Brittany looked over towards them and switched her footsteps in their direction; Santana followed slowly.

Rachel stood more firmly on her feet and had her gaze set on Santana. Quinn watched Brittany's face turn into a forced smile as they came to a halt in front of them. Santana looked up at them and readjusted the arms around her body, tighter. When she saw Rachel, her eyes hardened.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Santana asked sharply.

Rachel wasn't easily shaken. "Probably somewhere groveling through ignored text messages which a plethora of spelling mistakes, considering I haven't talked to him since yesterday." Rachel knew Santana was going to use Finn as an insult today, but it wouldn't do any good. She imagined her frustration was slightly less if not equal to the amount Santana and Brittany felt for him.

"You didn't have to do that for me," Santana said.

Rachel shrugged. "I didn't. As you are aware, I have two gay parents and was raised in a very accepting and tolerant household. I don't take public outing lightly. What he did was immature and disrespectful, not just to you but to me and Kurt and well all four us quite frankly."

Quinn stiffened immediately, hoping no one was listening. Then she felt guilty; Santana didn't have the luxury of quieted conversation anymore, and Quinn, out of all of them, didn't deserve it. She wondered if Rachel's anger could have been directed at Finn because of her. Quinn could have been in Santana's position, if Finn had been smart enough to figure that out. _'Not likely,'_ she noted.

Rachel continued, "I would like to apologize to you, Santana, and I'm sorry for everything."

"It's not your fault, Berry," Santana said. "You don't have to apologize for him. But thank you."

Quinn put a hand on Santana's shoulder and commanded her attention. "If you need anything…"

Santana gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks."

Over their shoulders, Quinn saw Finn approaching from the far end of the hallway. She looked back and Brittany and Santana and said, "I think you guys should leave now."

Santana's forehead scrunched up in confusion but Brittany followed her earlier line of vision. She grabbed Santana's arm and said, "Let's go." Brittany pulled her away and the two went off towards the gymnasium.

Rachel's face transformed into a scowl and she opened her locker, turning her back as Finn walked up. He looked at Quinn for a half of a second and then turned to Rachel.

"Rachel, why aren't you answering me?" he asked.

Quinn raised an eyebrow in wonderment. _'Really?'_ she thought. Then she remembered it didn't matter what she said to him and said it out loud. "Really, are you that stupid?"

"You can't call me stupid."

Quinn laughed disbelievingly. "Are you kidding me? You're going to tell me what I can't call _you?_ After yesterday?"

Finn eyed Quinn furiously. "Why are you even here, Quinn? Can you, like, go somewhere else? I need to talk to my girlfriend."

Quinn's jaw tensed and she clenched her fists. "In case you're too dumb to take the hint, your _girlfriend_ doesn't want to talk to you."

Finn turned his body a little more fully towards Quinn. "You hate Rachel, why are you even getting involved."

"I don't hate Rachel. Why would I hate Rachel?"

He leaned in. "Is this because you like me again or something, because I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Quinn couldn't even speak. She was amazed that after everything, in Finn's head, the world still revolved around him. She slapped him across the face before he had time enough to move out of her way. "You're an idiot." She stormed away, not bothering to say goodbye to Rachel.

Finn grabbed his face and rubbed at the prickling skin. That was two days in a row he got slapped, and didn't understand why he deserved it all three times. When he turned back to Rachel's locker he noticed she was no longer standing there. He looked around the hallway for her and found nothing.

"What the hell," he said, kicking the bottom row of lockers.

* * *

><p>At lunch, Santana barely could eat with the nausea caused by everyone's lingering stares. All of their friends had gathered to eat together, creating a protective barrier around the table. Santana was on the far end with Brittany to her right and on her left was the closest exit. She had insisted on the seat and ignored Tina and Mike's attempts to swarm her in the middle. Kurt and Blaine sat across from her and Brittany and watched her carefully. She was getting a little annoyed at everyone's concern, wishing they would just let her alone and pretend it didn't happen, but Santana was still grateful for their presence. A week before, she had doubted their allegiance, but they were doing everything in their power to prove it. <em>'Brittany was right<em>,' she smiled, knowing these were her friends and they were good ones.

Commotion at the other end of the table attracted her attention and she saw Puck on his feet glaring at Finn.

"Out of here dude, you're not sitting with us," he commanded.

Finn rolled his eyes. "This isn't my fault. You guys have to know that." He pointed at Rachel. "Rach is here, I'm not eating somewhere else."

Santana heard Rachel scoff loudly. Quinn's voice sounded next. "I guess you still haven't realized none of us want to talk to you, including your girlfriend."

His eyes scanned every one of their faces, except Santana and Brittany's, and his shoulders slumped. "This isn't my fault," he repeated. Finally, he looked at Santana. "Can I talk to you?"

Before she had a chance to answer, Brittany jumped up. "Get out of here," she yelled. Heads turned to see her fuming at him. "What don't you get? No one wants you here. You're not welcome."

Santana reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling Brittany's attention back. "I'm going to talk to him, okay?"

Brittany breathed out heavily. "Are you serious? Why?"

"Just sit down and eat, B, okay? I'm just going to hear him out, and if he says something I don't like, I'll kick him in the nuts and come back." She used her eyes to plead with Brittany and squeezed the forearm she held.

"Fine," Brittany said. Her eyes were turned up and not looking at Santana. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Santana stood up from the table and touched her chin, begging her to look down. Brittany jumped a little at the contact and drew her eyes back. There was a happy glint in them and Santana realized immediately what it was. She hadn't ever shown an intimate gesture like that in front of people they knew. For a second, Brittany must have imagined what it might be like to be able to touch each other sweetly in public. Santana had to admit, she thought of it too. The courage of that touch had come from somewhere she didn't understand; she guessed it must have been that there was no more fear of being found out. She wasn't scared of her feelings for Brittany and what they meant, but just people knowing about them. That was no longer the case. The feeling was fleeting when Brittany's blue eyes studied her in concern again.

"I'm sure. Just hang out here, I got this," she said. With a final smile, Santana stepped around Brittany and walked up to Finn. "You wanted to talk, so let's talk." Her smile disappeared and she set her face in a firm stare.

"Here?" he asked, looking around at their friends.

"Go," she put her hand up, gesturing out of the lunch room and he turned to take her direction. Santana followed him out and into the hallway.

They walked around the corner and into the back auditorium doors. When he reached the middle of the left aisle he sat down in a chair, leaving one open for her to sit. She sighed heavily and reluctantly dropped down into the seat next to him.

"I don't know what to say," he said delicately.

"How 'bout you start off with apologizing, that's usually how these things work."

"But it wasn't my fault, I didn't tell that guy you were a lesbian," she cringed when he said it out loud, "someone else did. I'm sorry it happened to you, but I'm not sorry for what I did."

She turned in the chair to look at him. _'He's really not kidding,'_ she couldn't believe it. "You're ignorant, you know that right?"

Finn looked at her. "You know, everyone calling me an idiot all the time doesn't make me feel good about myself, Santana. Why do I have to apologize for calling you what you are, when all of you make fun of me because I'm not the brightest?"

"We make fun of you because you just don't get it. You used to be the lovable doofus, Finn, but you keep doing stupid things and thinking you're right. And right now, you can't see what you did to me was wrong? That makes you even more annoying. So what if I call you stupid or fat or untalented, no one is going to beat you up or hate you because of that. You told a hallway full of people about me and Brittany."

"I didn't think people were listening," he interjected.

She rolled her eyes. "It's high school. Someone is always listening. And that's just it, you didn't _think._ You're not worried about how what you do affects everyone else. I didn't even want to walk through the front door today. I was terrified." He frowned. "Brittany had to force me out of the car in the parking lot. Have you ever seen Britt try to force anyone to do something? I couldn't resist because I was too busy laughing. She could have adorable-ed me to death." She smiled for a second, getting lost in the memory. "But she knew I needed to come in today and face everything. I had to deal with everyone knowing something about me that I wanted kept private. You told everyone my darkest secret."

Finn said seriously, "I know you won't believe this, but I was trying to help you. It shouldn't be a 'dark' secret, Santana. You should be able to love whoever you want and show it wherever you want."

"It doesn't work that way," she answered, "you get lost in the glee club bubble and forget that outside of the choir room, people are mean and not as accepting. _You_ may feel that way, but like eighty percent of the student body is going to treat Britts and I like freaks."

"But I didn't tell anyone," he groaned, "I just yelled it in the hallway. It's not like I knew the whole world was going to find out."

"It wasn't your right to tell _anyone._ You know how people acted with Kurt last year and all of the Karofsky bullshit, and he was already out. You didn't think I kept it a secret for a reason?"

Finn's head fell to his hands and he rubbed his eyes against his palms. Santana shifted in her seat and looked towards the stage, remembering leaping off it the day before. Her whole world had cracked because of him, and he couldn't even mutter one apology.

"Look, Finn, usually you're a good guy and trying to do the right thing, but you screwed up. What if people come after us? Could you live with that?"

"No, I can't, Santana. But I just wanted to help. You know we are all going to have your back."

"At school," she noted, "you can't all be around every second of the day to protect us."

He sat back and tilted his head back against the top of the chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen to you."

She thought it would feel satisfying hearing his apology but it wasn't. It was a second of pain scraped off the deep layer of sorrow sheathing her shoulders. "It doesn't help."

"I know," he said.

Xx

Brittany bit her nails worriedly and stared towards the back exit. Finn and Santana had been gone a long time and she wished the doors would open up and reveal her beautiful girlfriend. She could care less about Finn, and wished when the door opened she would see him doubled over the ground grabbing his crotch. It was a very desirable thought.

"So did anyone tell you about Rachel slapping Finn?" Kurt asked across the table. Quinn smirked and Rachel glared down the table at him.

Brittany twisted her neck back and laughed. "She slapped him?"

"It was quite amazing actually," Blaine recounted.

"What happened," Brittany asked, leaning forward to hear the story.

_Kurt and Blaine sat in the back row, watching the scene play out and Santana storming from the room with Brittany on her heels. _

"_Quinn," Mr. Schuester called from the back, "Can you have Santana meet me in the principal's office?"_

_Quinn nodded and followed Brittany and Santana out of the room. Kurt watched her go and then his eyes shot back when Rachel shot to her feet._

"_What did you do?" she yelled at Finn._

"_I-I didn't do anything, Rachel." _

"_Tell me the truth," Rachel demanded, hands on her hips. "What did you tell everyone about Santana?"_

_Kurt knew as well as Rachel obviously did what Finn must have done. She was just forcing him to say it out loud to confirm their suspicions._

"_I told her to just come out of the closet in the hallway yesterday." Rachel's eyes widened. "But she provoked me! I didn't mean to say it out loud. You can ask Rory, he was there, she didn't give me a choice."_

"_You don't just say that in the middle of a high school, Finn. Are you even aware of the consequences of your actions? You know my dads. You know my daddy was outed in the school newspaper, and harassed so much he had to switch schools. How could you do this to Santana?"_

"_She was calling me names," Finn said. _

_When he opened his mouth to continue, Rachel slapped him across the face in the same fashion as Santana had moments before. "I can't believe you did this," she said and stormed out of the room. _

"Wow." Brittany was surprised Rachel would have been so daring as to slap him in front of two teachers. Santana had, but that was a different story. She saw Rachel watching them discuss it with a proud look. "Thanks, Rachel."

"I didn't do it for you. He was being insensitive and it was downright appalling behavior. I thought the lesson was learned last year after Kurt and Karofsky, but apparently someone needs to explain it to him thoroughly."

Santana reappeared behind Brittany. "Don't worry, took care of it." Brittany hadn't even seen her come back into the room and smiled at her appearance. "What'd I miss," she said as she sat down.

"Rachel slapped Finn after we left yesterday," Brittany said. She watched the corners of Santana's lips twitch into a smile and was relieved. It was one of the first genuine smiles of the day.

"Nice, Berry. Kudos."

They all resumed eating, including Brittany and Santana. When the spotlight had been turned off of them and back onto regular business as usual, Brittany bravely put her hand under the table and grabbed the empty hand in Santana's lap. Santana's body tensed, but she laced her fingers through Brittany's and squeezed their hands together. Brittany's smile grew.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** **once again, sorry it's shorter but I didn't want to wait a whole week before updating again. Thanks for reading! **


	40. all you needed was me

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Alrighty, well here's this. It picks up about, Idk, ten minutes after the last chapter. Oddly it's been entertaining to me that these last few chapters have all taken place over the course of like 3 days. I hope you enjoy this :)  
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**johndo: Thanks so much :) I try to balance it so no one is weeping by the end of them.  
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**tagme07: Haha, thanks. You're review made me chuckle. I'm gonna be really happy to write relationshipy Brittana now :)  
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**hecksyea: I hate Finn too, don't worry. I'm slowly getting Faberry back, I know exactly what I want to do with them, so just be patient with me :)  
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**blueskkies: Thanks:) But when we had what we had from the show, couldn't anything have been better lol  
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**breakdown6: God I hate Finn, I hope people don't think the first scene in this(which you've already read) doesn't make people doubt my dislike of him haha. I would have liked a better scene between them than the conversation at the locker right before Girls Just Want to Have Fun. So stupid. That episode upsets me, literally every time someone brings it up. Bear with me for Faberry :) Waffles thing? Totally out of my life. Me and my cousin used to do that lol Uhm virtual hug*?  
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**thetamarine: Finn pisses me off, but I tried to restrain from outlandish consequences. I gave him another one in this chapter, but just like there was resolve in the show between them, I did the same. I agree with you about him being selfish and a prick and I'll add that he just needs to go away.  
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****genetic: no problemo :) sorry, sorry, here's an update ;P  
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****anon: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!****

****kooks78: thanks for all the reviews you left as you read it I'm guessing lol****

****AnjyBoBanjy: Thanks a lot. I seriously don't understand how anyone thought that episode was acceptable. I get it, they're in glee and they usually sing about their problems, but Finn literally got commended for his actions. Literally, by SANTANA. From a writing standpoint, Hodgson is an asshole. They could have made Artie the hero of that episode and I would have respected it more. It was just stupid. Thanks :)  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Lunch continued on without interruption. When they were both finished, Brittany took their trays up to the trash and Santana took the time to examine their lunch table. Rachel and Tina discussed sectionals and how Michael Jackson was an absolute "must." Blaine and Kurt were trying to get ketchup out of Blaine's bowtie; a result of trying to feed each other gone awry. Finn obviously caught the hint and decided to eat out on the patio, way out of her line of sight, but what caught Santana's attention the most was Puck, now on the opposite side of the table, whispering to Quinn.<p>

'_More baby drama?' _she wondered. Brittany sat back down next to her and leaned forward on her hand.

"Good day so far?" she asked kindly.

Santana shrugged. "Not much of a day to go on."

Suddenly, the table shook under their arms. Santana was surprised to see Puck now standing on top of it, whistling for the lunchroom's attention. She looked around to her friends, trying to figure out what was going on, but Quinn seemed like the only one who understood; her smirk was glowing in the afternoon sunlight.

"So all you like gossip and rumours, right? If you wanna hear some good ones, follow me." He leapt down off the table over Mike's head—Mike ducked out of the way and went body-first into his tray full of food, spilling milk everywhere—and into the aisle-way. Quinn climbed to her feet, straightened out her rust-colored skirt, and followed him out the door onto the patio.

Everyone's eyes met each other. A flurry of kids rushed to their feet and followed Puck and Quinn. Not surprisingly, Tina, Mike, Artie and Mercedes leapt to their feet immediately (Artie not so much) and followed the crowd of people. Only Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Kurt, and Blaine remained, looking at each other, confused.

"Should," Blaine started, "—should we go?"

Brittany glanced at her. "Should we?"

Santana nodded emphatically. "Let's go." Rachel smiled in agreement.

They all stood up and followed the remaining stragglers out into the courtyard, and saw Puck standing center on one of the cement tables. Underneath him, seated on the table was Quinn. And underneath her, sitting with his head in his hands and shoulders hung, was Finn.

"—needless to say," Santana heard Puck saying as they approached, "he pissed his pants the first time he got hit."

The crowd roared in approval. Fists were up in the air, people were cheering, and mostly just demanding more. And Puck apparently had it. He checked with Finn and Quinn before telling another. They both nodded, Finn immensely more reluctant than Quinn.

"Due to," he put his fingers up signifying quotes, "early arrival problems," everyone laughed again, "Fabray convinced Finn he got her pregnant in a hot-tub. And apparently she's not the only person he had that problem with." Puck leered over towards Rachel who turned away and put a hand up to hide her blushing face.

When Quinn saw Brittany and Santana standing on the edge of the crowd, she climbed down off the table and made her way through to them.

"What the hell is this?" Santana asked, laughing.

Quinn smiled. "It was Puck's idea. If Finn thinks he can get away with blabbing your dirty laundry, we're giving him a taste of his own medicine."

"But this is really bad," Santana admitted. She didn't like the idea of anyone's personal crap floating around, especially after the day before. As entertaining as it was, she knew it still wasn't right.

Quinn broke away from grinning at Rachel's red face to smack Santana's arm-she knew she hated the Cheerio's outfits for a reason. "He agreed to it. Now stop being such a spoil-sport."

Santana was stunned. "What?"

Rachel stepped forward. "He agreed to it?" Her eyes glistened with surprising adoration.

Brittany was too busy listening to Puck to care about Finn's feelings; Santana knew that to be a fact.

"He asked me how to kiss a girl when we were in seventh grade," Puck called out again, "and when I told him, as a joke, to practice on a teddy-bear, he went to my sister's room and got one."

Finn let his head crash forward into the table. Santana laughed out again. It didn't compare, not by far, but he was making the effort and she was grateful. For the first time, she felt her distain of Finn lift away the slightest bit.

"It doesn't make it okay," she heard Brittany mutter under her breath.

Santana turned to her and looped an arm through hers. "It's a start, B." Brittany glanced sideways at her and smiled. She pulled their arms closer to her side.

"I caught him praying to grilled cheese. Grilled cheese that he insisted was Jesus." Finn punched Puck in the leg. "Alright, dude. Enough, I get it. Moral is, Finn's an idiot." Finn aimed to hit him again, but he jumped out of the way onto the bench. "But you losers," he pointed out at the crowd, "you shouldn't have even come out here. Secrets are secrets," he kicked Finn in the shoulder lightly, "and if _he_ could learn that lesson, you have no excuse."

The group's excitement died off quickly with his speech. Instead, they chose to glare at him and Finn instead. Santana knew how easily the tide could change in high school. She was living proof; two days ago she had been on top and now spent almost every second worried for her own humiliation.

Through the angry students, Santana caught Finn looking at her apologetically. Finn was stupid, and in no way her friend, but he tried to make amends. And when his attention was turned long enough that he didn't notice the blue slushie hurling into his face, she smirked at him. And through his syrup-stained face, he smiled back.

* * *

><p>"—so you're not going to get anything out of this, Quinn, until you grow up and realize how immature you're being."<p>

Shelby's voice drifted out of her open door and into the hallway where Rachel was sidled up against a row of lockers, listening. She had been on her way to the choir room in search of Mr. Schuester, to give him her proposed set list, when she heard Quinn's stern voice pouring out of Shelby's classroom. She was intrigued, and determined, to figure out what was going on. She could see Quinn's eggshell cardigan-clad shoulder through the small window in the door, and Shelby standing a foot away, condemning her for something.

"Don't talk down to me," Quinn retorted in a cold voice, "I know about you and Puck. I doubt sleeping with a student paints you as a model parent. I'm sure child-services would love to hear that one."

Rachel grimaced. _'Mental note, slap Puck the next time we're alone. Disgusting,'_ she thought, gagging.

"I ended whatever was between me and Puck. It was stupid, and it's over," Shelby said.

"Still happened."

"You're right." Rachel heard Shelby's heels clack against the floor as she went over towards the blackboard. Her back was turned and Rachel couldn't see either of their faces. She debated running outside to look in through the window so she could see Quinn's. "I'll understand, no matter what you do."

Quinn stepped forward. "What is this? What game are you playing?"

"I'm not playing anything."

Quinn's voice steadied. "Fine. Then I'll go tell Principal Figgins right now."

Rachel watched her turn on her heel in a rush and slam the door open. The commotion made her jump and Quinn saw her huddled against the cool metal. The hardness in her eyes softened and Rachel's stomach turned uncomfortably.

It was surprising. Quinn hadn't had that affect on her in months and she didn't understand what had changed. Earlier that day in the courtyard, when Quinn was watching her face get red, she felt it too. Rachel wondered if it was the compassion of helping Santana that made her see the old Quinn—the one she hadn't seen since New York City.

"Rachel?" Quinn had asked her a question when she wasn't listening and was staring with what looked like genuine concern.

"What?" _'Smooth, Rachel.'_

She expected a smirk, but Quinn's face hardened again. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"I-uh," she glanced around, "no, I was checking out these lockers." Rachel thumped one with her knuckles. "Firm."

"Checking them for what?" Quinn obviously could tell she was lying.

Rachel, not one to give up easily, continued. "My locker has become, I don't know, rather cramped lately. Books and such," she waved her hand around flippantly, "Tina told me the lockers over here were a little larger and I was going to ask for a reassignment." Quinn was still staring at her incredulously. "For more space."

"Really?" The word was dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel nodded. "Mhm."

Quinn sighed largely. "You're unbelievable."

"Almost as unbelievable as getting my mother fired, right?" Rachel asked pointedly.

It caught Quinn off guard. Her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes narrowed. "Safe to say you were listening then."

Stepping forward, Rachel asked, "What are you doing, Quinn?" She could feel her go on the defensive immediately. The air thickened with familiar tension and it was a little hard to swallow.

"It's none of your business."

"It involves my family, so it is my business."

"Beth is _my_ family, first of all," Quinn said, "and Shelby is hardly yours. She isn't your mom."

Rachel wanted to bite her tongue and hold it back, but she couldn't. Quinn was evidently in need of hard truths and she seemed like the only one who was available. "And you aren't Beth's."

Quinn's forehead crinkled and her figure was stiff. "You don't know anything about it, Rachel. So just, back off."

"Back off? If I do, no one else will say anything. Everyone else is scared of you. Except me."

Quinn took a deep breath. "You know, there used to be a time when you would be on my side. Protect _me._"

"I'm not going to let you delude yourself into thinking this is what you want. You're hurt," Rachel closed the gap by one more hesitant step, "and you don't think you have anything. But you have me." When Quinn's eyes lit up slightly, Rachel was reluctant to add the next part. "As a friend. You don't need to do this. You're ruining other people's lives if you do. Please, don't."

Rachel could feel her hands trembling. They wanted to reach out and grab something. Quinn's neck, maybe. _'No,'_ Rachel scolded herself. She had given up that right the second her lips touched another person's. All she wanted was to help Quinn. She wasn't lying when she told Brittany she still cared about the girl. Something was suggesting she didn't know exactly how deep that feeling went.

"No," Quinn said finally.

Rachel didn't know what she was saying "no" to. Rachel's offer to help? That she was hurt? That Quinn had her? Or not to go through with it? She realized, when Quinn promptly left, that it was probably "no" to all of it. Quinn didn't want her anymore, in any shape or form. Friends had been a reluctant agreement, and her meddling had rescinded the offer.

Rachel had a history of storm-offs. She had walked away from most situations before they spun out of control and that included conversations with Quinn. Tons of arguments, whether over what to eat for dinner or when to come out, Rachel had just walked away. Watching Quinn go, she wondered if how she felt right then was the same way Quinn felt every time she had just gone.

'_I hope not,'_ Rachel thought bitterly.

* * *

><p>"You know, you should just rejoin the Cheerio's, Q," Brittany stated, "you were a lot happier then."<p>

"I doubt spanks and cheering would solve my problems," Quinn said as they walked down the center of the hallway.

Brittany tapped her chin. The only other time Quinn had been as happy was when she was with Rachel and that wasn't really an option. _'Wait,'_ Brittany thought. "You wore spanks when you were pregnant, and you were all smiley then."

Tina looked around Quinn to see Brittany. "Different kind of spanks, Brittany."

"So you're suggesting I get pregnant again," Quinn asked with a smile on her face.

Brittany shrugged. That seemed like a good idea. All she wanted was for her old friend to come back; not the sulky, bitter one who sat in the back of the choir room and didn't talk to anyone. She was willing to try anything at that point.

"Wait," Tina said, looking forward again, "who is that guy?" She pointed down the hallway to where Santana was standing at her locker, frozen solid, listening to some guy Brittany didn't recognize.

Almost instantly, Mercedes and Rachel closed in on them. The guy stood there smugly and rolled his eyes as they spoke. Brittany broke free of Tina and Quinn, even though they were following quickly behind, and hurried down the hallway.

A foot away, Santana glanced back and saw her. Her shoulders were still rigid, but she saw a wave of relief wash though her eyes. Brittany stepped closer and put her hand on Santana's lower back. The skin trembled to the touch and she tried a smile to comfort her.

"I'm just trying to make her normal," the guy replied to whatever Rachel or Mercedes had said before.

Brittany felt anger boiling in her chest. "She is normal."

"More normal than some loser who has tries to pick up someone he knows he can't have. Is that so you have a good reason to tell your buddies this time," Tina said, with an odd snarkiness Brittany hadn't ever heard before.

Quinn leaned forward, cold glare intact. "Get out of here, moron." He shrugged and with another eye-roll, wandered away.

The second he was out of sight, Brittany pulled Santana around by her shoulder and wrapped both arms around her neck. She felt Santana's chest relax into hers and arms tighten around her waist. Brittany squeezed and leaned her nose down into the polyester material of her Cheerio's top.

Very quietly, so much that she was sure none of them around could hear her, Santana whispered, "Thank you." Her locked wrists opened up and she put both palms on Brittany's shoulder blades. The tips of her fingers dug in firmly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make Brittany hold tighter.

After what had must have been an awkward moment for them, Rachel asked, "Are you okay, Santana?"

Santana seemed reluctant to pull out of her embrace, but did, and faced all of them. "Yeah, I am. Thank you guys. Mercedes," she smirked, "didn't think you had it in you."

Brittany saw Rachel trying to secretly glance at Quinn. The tiny way Quinn's hazel eyes flicked back and forth made her realize she saw it too and was purposely avoiding Rachel's. It made Brittany want to laugh, but knowing someone would ask her about the strange outburst given the situation, she decided against it.

"He was a creep, and we've got your back," Mercedes said with a wide smile.

They all nodded and Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana's waist, pulling their hips together.

"Rachel Berry!"

Everyone's heads turned to see Principal Figgins standing at the end of the lockers. Rachel crouched behind Mercedes instinctively before she realized who it was. He walked closer and glanced at each of their faces. Last, he settled on Rachel's worried one.

"I need to see you in my office," he said lazily.

Everyone looked at each other again. Brittany didn't drop the arm she had around Santana's waist even when she caught Figgins subtly check it out. She was surprised when even Santana didn't shrug out of the hold.

"What is this about?" Rachel asked.

"Regarding the ballot," he said thickly.

The confusion on their faces grew further. Brittany, however, knew exactly what it was about. Rachel nodded timidly and followed him towards the front of the school.

"I wonder what that was about," Santana said, "I don't think Berry's been to the office in her whole life. Other than to bitch about something." Tina and Mercedes chuckled.

Brittany clicked her tongue. "I know what it's about."

Tina, Mercedes, Quinn and Santana all tilted their heads at her.

"How?" Quinn asked. Brittany was sure they all could hear the overly-worried tone of her voice.

"Kurt told me," she said simply.

"Care to enlighten us," Mercedes asked.

"Rachel told Finn she rigged the election so Kurt could win. And Finn told Kurt. And Kurt told me." Her head kind of spun trying to put it together vocally.

Santana scoffed. "Why would she do that?"

"So he would win?"

Tina shook her head. "No why would she do that to you. You guys are friends."

"Oh," Brittany said, "she wanted Kurt to come to New York with her."

"The election doesn't directly mean Kurt's going there, Britt. That doesn't make any sense," Quinn said.

"That's all Kurt told me."

Santana raised an eyebrow at her. "And you aren't mad?"

Brittany lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. "Honestly, I forgot I was even running."

Mercedes laughed. "Girl, how do you forget something like that?"

Brittany smiled and grabbed Santana's arm with her free arm. "I had other things on my mind."

Tina grinned and shook her head, walking away. Mercedes rolled her eyes and followed. Quinn hung around for an extra second.

"Are you gonna be okay," she asked them both.

Santana nodded a few times. "I'll be good. It's just something I'll have to get used to I guess."

Brittany hated hearing Santana say things like that. She didn't want her to feel so defeated about her life. Santana didn't have a disease or a deformity. She wasn't any less than anybody else. The only time Brittany accepted feeling stupid was when she thought about how cruelly people judged someone they didn't even know; she just didn't understand it. She thought about asking Santana what made some people act that way, but knew there couldn't be a satisfying answer. If they came up with an answer, it would only cement the fact that it wouldn't ever change.

"Seven months and then were out of here," Quinn said, "It's not long now."

Brittany saw the corner of Santana's mouth curl up into a half-smile. "The worst has to be over."

Quinn and Brittany nodded in agreement. "And if it does get worse, we have each other," Brittany said, "all of us." Quinn smirked and put her arms around both of them briefly. She pulled away and left them to stand there.

"When's the last time Q gave you a hug?" Santana asked.

"Long time," Brittany said happily.

Santana lightly hip-checked her. "We'll have her back before we know it."

"I hope so." She remembered the reason she had been heading towards Santana's locker in the first place. "Oh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Santana leaned against her locker and smiled. "Okay."

"You told your parents, right," Santana's smile went away, but she wasn't frowning either—a good sign—, "so I was wondering if tonight I can tell my parents."

Santana laughed. "You can tell them if you want, Britt."

"Okay, but I want you to tell them with me."

Santana's eyes widened. "What?"

"It's not a big deal. It's my parents. I'm sure they'll just give you a pat on the back and tell us to keep the doors open from now on." Her dad wouldn't care and she was about ninety-nine percent sure her mom already knew. Chrissy loved Santana, plus she was a little young to understand, so she wasn't a large factor.

Santana didn't speak for a few minutes and opened her locker to play around with the books. Brittany guessed she was deliberating and looking at her would complicate the decision. She couldn't blame her; Brittany tried to use pouts on many occasions to get her way and that one wasn't an exception.

Finally, Santana turned around and smiled. "What's for dinner then?"

* * *

><p>She should have turned on the lights in the auditorium. There weren't a lot of windows, being it was in the middle of the school, and the dimness shrouded her. Rachel realized that subconsciously she might have needed the lights off; she didn't want to see the tears falling onto her lap anyway. She could see enough—the outlines of her hands and the chair in front of her. A distant light on the stage lit up the front of the room; if she really wanted light she could have sat up there.<p>

Her meeting with Figgins hadn't been good. Earlier that week Kurt had been called in because of the rigged ballot. After he had told Rachel, she confessed to him and told him that she would take the fall. She did it for Kurt and if he somehow got in trouble because of her, she wouldn't have been able to live with herself. So when Kurt was called back in, he told Figgins it was Rachel which led to _her_ meeting. Figgins said someone needed to face the consequences and she pleaded with him to leave Kurt alone; she was suspended in the process.

One of the doors in the top right corner of the room burst open, filling the room with an uncomfortable visibility. Rachel couldn't help shifting to her right to avoid the beams of light. A shadow blocked them out for a second as they entered the room, and found the row she was sitting it. A loud clash meant the door had closed, just as he sat down next to her.

"It's creepy in her without the lights," Finn said as he looked around the vacant auditorium. When she didn't answer right away, he glanced over at her. "Hey, are you okay? Wait—are you crying?"

Rachel twisted in her seat and buried her face in his shoulder and blubbered. The flannel material of his shirt scratched against her face and she moved it around, searching for a comfortable position; she didn't find one.

"What did Principal Figgins say?" he asked again, stroking her hair with one hand. She mumbled into his shoulder and his body jolted with a tiny chuckle. "You have to come up here."

Rachel sat back in her chair and stared up at him through tear-soaked eyes. She could feel her makeup running down her cheeks and didn't even want to think of how ugly she must have looked. "He suspended me."

Finn continued to run his hand through her hair. "It'll be okay. You'll be out of school for a week, so what? A lot of people would kill for that."

She pushed his hand away. "Not me."

He smiled. "It's okay, Rachel. Puck gets suspended every other week."

"Noah is a delinquent, and such behavior is expected from him. Not from someone trying to get into a school with a selective admissions board."

"I'm just saying. A month from now this won't even matter."

Rachel craned her neck away from him. "It matters to me. But how little you seem to care right now suggests you won't care about the next part either." She wiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks; for some reason she felt like she needed to put herself back together so he wouldn't see her like that.

Finn slung his arm around the back of the chair so it barely rested on her shoulder. She twitched uncomfortably under the pressure and crossed her arms.

"I do care," he said calmly and picked at the hair on her right shoulder again, "just tell me."

Her tear ducts started producing a fresh crop of droplets that united at the rim of her eyelids. "I'm not allowed to sing next week. At sectionals."

When she started weeping again, he tightened the arm around her shoulder and pulled her face back into his shirt.

"It's okay. It's fine. We can still win without you."

Immediately, she ripped out of his arms. "What," she asked, angry. She couldn't believe he would say that; not because it wasn't true, but because he thought that's what she was worried about.

He sputtered, "I-I just meant, we can still win even if you aren't singing. So you don't have to worry."

"This is our last sectionals, Finn. I know we're going to win, but I want to be up there performing with my friends."

Finn put a large hand on her arm again. "You'll sing at Regional's, Rach. This isn't a big deal."

Rachel leapt to her feet and glared at him. He was barely back in her good graces after what he had done to Santana, so he should have been trying his best to be on her side. "It's a big deal to me."

Finn's face warped sternly. "You're acting kind of selfish right now. You shouldn't have rigged the election in the first place—"

"I wanted Kurt to win," she cut him off, "is that so bad? I wanted someone with me in New York. I wanted my best friend."

Finn just stared at her and his eyes were sullen. "I would be in New York."

"It's not the same," she could tell she was hurting him, but it was the truth, "I need Kurt."

"So you don't need me?" he asked, climbing to his feet.

"N-no, that's not what I mean." Rachel walked forward and tried to put a hand on his chest, but he dodged her. "Finn."

"Whatever, Rachel," he said. Finn walked out of the row of seats and she heard the back door slam open with his exit.

* * *

><p>Brittany came out of the bathroom wearing a lime green and yellow tank-top over tan khaki shorts. She had yellow knee-socks pulled up as high as they would go and her straightened hair held back with a thin green headband. The socks were Santana's favorite; she bought them a couple Christmas's before and Brittany insisted on wearing them every chance she got for the week after. After a lot of convincing, she made sure Brittany realized they would wear out and tear if she wore them so often.<p>

Santana had on a black and white dress, covered up with a black cardigan. Her hair was clipped back on one side and the rest hung down onto her shoulders. She was lounging on Brittany's bed and playing with the paint application on her phone while she waited for Brittany to get done changing.

"They're going to notice something's up when we are both dressed," she said, taking in Brittany's appearance, "Isn't this about the time where we wrap ourselves in sweats and t-shirts?"

Brittany laughed as she walked over to the bed, leaning her knees down onto the edge. She scooted herself on and laid out right next to Santana. They were both on their sides facing each other, arms propping up their own heads.

"It'll be easier to remember if something sticks out, like our clothes."

Santana asked, "Remember?"

"I want to remember telling them." Brittany leaned forward and pecked Santana's lips. "It's a big deal to me."

Santana reached up and put her left hand on Brittany's waist. Her fingers slid against the soft material of Brittany's tank-top as she rubbed it back and forth along her side. She could feel Brittany's gaze on her lips, but chose to stare at her hand as it moved.

"I love you, you know," Santana said, still following her own movement, "we go through so much crap. I'm just happy your still here."

"Where else would I be?"

Santana took a breath to steady her voice. Brittany must have sensed her hesitancy because she reached down and covered Santana's hand with her own, stilling it. "You could still be with Artie. Or with Mike. Or I don't know, alone. Something better than dealing with all my shit."

Brittany's fingers tensed around her hand and Santana glanced at her face again. "I don't _deal_ with you, Santana. I _want_ to be with you. "

"I just mean," Santana took another breath, "you deserved somebody better than I could be then. I'm not saying I'm not right for you now, but you could have had somebody who would have been there the whole time, you know?"

"I'm not ugly," Brittany said abruptly.

Santana's eyebrows scrunched together. "I know that?"

"I mean, there were people who wanted to date me the last few years. Artie wasn't the first. Puck tried multiple times since we were freshman." Santana's felt her lip curl into a snarl and Brittany laughed. "But I didn't want to be with any of them 'cause they weren't you. I was waiting. I slept with people, yeah, but they didn't mean anything more than a number. It's like you told me at that Cheerio's meeting; if I had a lot of sex they would respect me more. But I didn't love any of them. Well except Artie."

Santana dropped her head back. "Meaningless sex was my lesson to you. Great."

Brittany laughed again and stuck her arm out to wrap around Santana's back. "It doesn't matter. Even if you didn't know it, you were there for me. When you stuck up for me and protected me, or when you cuddled me and held tighter than I've ever seen you hug even Quinn. I realized a long time ago the romantic side was going to be hard for you. And even though it was amazing, I didn't want our first kiss to be spin-the-bottle, but that night I felt you let yourself enjoy it. I felt how scared your lips were, but you liked it. And I just knew if I waited long enough, you'd come around."

Over the last couple months, Santana had spent a lot of time doubting Brittany's feelings for her. She had always been a little worried that she felt like a project, or a puzzle; something for Brittany to put back together and then move on. But for Brittany, it sounded like it had always been Santana. And it went without saying that Brittany was it for her. Her skin was buzzing with relief and she rolled forward to kiss her. Brittany chuckled against her mouth and kissed back.

Through the door, they heard Anna yell up the stairs, "Girls! Dinner's ready!"

Brittany threw her head back and groaned. "Alright," she called back. Santana sat up and straightened her hair out and when she was done, flattened out the parts of Brittany's hair where it was ruffled. Brittany smirked and leaned forward to peck her cheek. "Ready?"

"I am," Santana said with a toothy smile.

"Dinner, then maybe dessert, then back here and we'll watch a movie," it was more of a question than a statement.

"Actually, I have to go to my abuelita's later. My mom thinks it's a good idea to tell her." _'Even if I don't,_' she thought.

Brittany frowned. "Will you come over afterwards?"

"If it goes okay," Santana said honestly, "if not, I'm not sure."

Brittany's frown disappeared as she nodded. "Just do what you have to do."

"Girls," Anna yelled up the stairs again.

"Coming!" Brittany hopped up from the bed and grabbed Santana's hand. "C'mon."

Santana followed her out of the bedroom and down the front stairs. She could already see Brittany's family—Tony, Anna, and Chrissy—sitting around the dinner table, waiting for them. Her nerves hadn't started until they passed through the opening to the dining room, and found the two chairs open for them so they could sit next to each other. Anna had removed one unnecessary chair, but made sure to put the remaining two on one side, opposite Chrissy. Brittany didn't have to sit next to her sister and Santana didn't have to either. It was something her mom always did when they ate dinner. She knew it would help to be sitting next to Brittany for the night ahead. They hadn't gone over when to bring it up, so she was completely at Brittany's will.

Tony rubbed his hands together and grabbed Chrissy's plate to put food on it. He looked up at their arrival as he worked and smiled awkwardly when he saw they were dressed up. "It's uh," he laughed, "pot roast tonight. Carrots, potatoes, and noodles. Dig in."

Santana and Brittany sat down, Brittany on the side closest to her dad and Santana closer to Anna. They both started to make their plates and passed food between themselves as they filled them. Santana could feel Chrissy staring at them before she spoke.

"Are you guys going somewhere," she asked.

Side-eyeing Brittany, Santana let her answer. "Nope, we just thought it'd be fun to look nice tonight."

Anna tucked hair behind her ear and viewed her family. "We should all do that more often. We have a guest and it'd be nice to look formal every now and then."

"I'm hardly a guest," Santana joked.

"You don't live here do you?" Tony stabbed a piece of roast and put it on his plate. "I need to know if I should start charging rent."

"You wouldn't do that, would you dad," Brittany asked. Santana glanced over and smirked at her.

"Hey, money doesn't grow on trees."

Chrissy swung her fork around—it had a carrot speared through every spoke—and said, "Money is paper. And paper comes from trees."

Anna leaned over. "We have a little smartass on our hands now," she whispered to Santana, "Did they teach you kids how to talk down to your parents in elementary school?"

Santana titled her head forward. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask that question."

Anna chuckled and nodded her head. "No, I don't suppose so either."

"You're very right, Christine," Tony said proudly, "but money has to be made and does not come directly from it. Therefore," Santana could tell he was trying to sound articulate, "Santana owes me money."

"I'll pay it," Brittany proposed playfully.

Anna wagged a finger at them. "Nope. Doesn't work that way."

Santana sliced a potato with her fork and threw her free hand up. "Fine, I'll move out after dinner. I promise."

"Good," Tony teased, "now that we have that business out of the way, how was school?"

Santana nervously glanced at Brittany. She was already looking at her and subtly shaking her head. Santana knew they hadn't seen the commercial –the TV was rarely used by anyone other than Santana and Brittany on their movie nights, and that was only when they were too lazy to go upstairs after dinner—and that meant they probably didn't know about the hard time she had been having at school. It wasn't her least desire to bring it up either, so she hoped Brittany would step in.

"We got the Cheerio's to join the new choir this week. We had to practically beg on our knees to get Coach to agree," Brittany finally said.

Tony shook his head as he chewed. "I don't know if I particularly like that woman."

"She's tough, but she gets the job done," Santana admitted. She had developed a lot of respect for Sue over the years. Even if she hated her, Sue was the strongest woman she knew.

"I want to be a Cheerio," Chrissy said happily.

"Then you can try out when you're a freshman like Brittany did," Anna replied. She didn't seem so enthusiastic about the idea, and she had always kind of disliked Sue's methods, but she wouldn't tell her daughters "no" about anything.

"But you should try out for glee club too," Brittany suggested.

"I can't sing," her sister said sadly.

"I couldn't sing when I was your age," Santana lied. She felt Brittany and her parents looking at her, knowing it wasn't true, but she continued anyway. "But if you practice you'll sound like me and Britts soon."

"Pray you'll sound like her and not me," Brittany added.

Santana turned to her. "You have a wonderful voice."

"You have a better one."

"So."

"You both have good voices," Anna said, trying to quiet them.

Brittany forked a carrot off Santana's plate and stuck her tongue out. Santana only smirked and did the same thing. Their plates were back to their original count.

"Eat," Tony scolded them. "You're worse than your sister." He winked at his younger daughter.

They all ate quietly, only talking when they needed to pass the food, and comment on how good it tasted. Santana tried to take bites deliberately and chewed slowly, knowing Brittany was probably waiting until the end of the meal to talk to them. When Chrissy was done, she asked if she could go, but Brittany insisted she stay. It earned her weird looks from both of her parents who encouraged their youngest daughter to stick around. Tony usually ate until everyone else stood up, but for the rest of them Santana finished last. She set her fork down against the porcelain plate and gave Brittany a questioning stare, asking if she was ready. She was sure Anna and Tony saw the affirmative nod.

"We want to tell you guys something," Brittany started, "and I don't want you to freak out before I saw anything, because it's not bad. It's actually really good. Really, _really_ good."

Tony set his fork down against the tablecloth and leaned his arms down on the table, folding his hands. Anna looked between Chrissy and Tony and then back to Brittany and Santana. Santana was all of a sudden confused. Brittany hadn't ever said she told her mom about them, but she could definitely tell that Anna knew something, which made her a little more nervous.

"Okay," she said.

"You have the table," Tony teased.

"Hurry up," Chrissy demanded.

Anna shushed her and went back to waiting for one of them to speak. Santana knew Brittany wanted to do it, so she stayed quiet. She vowed to only jump in if asked a direct question or if Brittany was floundering. The first was more likely.

"Santana and I," she rolled her eyes up (Santana guessed to pick the best way to say it), "we've been, um, we're kind of together." No one said anything immediately. "We're dating." Nothing. "In a relationship."

Santana mumbled out, "I think they got it, B."

Chrissy hung her head back. "Can I go now?" Anna nodded and she hopped down off the chair and ran up the stairs.

Tony hadn't taken his eyes off them, but Santana didn't feel uneasy under his stare; it felt more like he was trying to understand.

Anna had her forehead scrunched up and she rolled her knife around on the table. "How long," she asked softly. It wasn't threatening, but curious.

"Since May," Brittany answered.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Brittany didn't say anything so Santana spoke up. "I asked her not to. I was afraid of what everyone would think of me."

Tony huffed. "We're practically family, Santana. We've known you since you were born. It wouldn't have changed how we felt about you."

"It was stupid, I know."

"So why are you telling us now," Anna asked, looking between back and forth between them. "Did something happen?" Santana could see her confused expression shift into worry.

"Someone outed us," Brittany said, "but we're okay. We're getting through it." She reached down and grabbed Santana's hand that hung between their chairs. Anna saw the motion and Santana watched the tiniest smile form on her lips.

"You didn't have to hide from us," Tony stated, pulling their attention, "you're our daughter Brittany, and Santana we love you just the same."

"Is it serious," Anna grabbed back all of the attention of the room; even Tony abandoned staring at them.

"We're telling the truth," Brittany tried. Santana knew she didn't understand what her mom was asking.

"I love her," Santana told them. She looked from Anna to Tony. "I do. I always have."

"Oh," Brittany said, "yeah mom, it's very serious."

"Alright then," Tony said, "well that settles it. Santana," he paused, "you definitely have to move out now."

Santana stared at him until she realized he was joking. Her face broke out into a tortured smile and she laughed. "You just have to make things difficult don't you, Mr. P?"

"It wouldn't be him if he didn't," Anna teased. He stuck his tongue out and she held her fist up at him. "But you two realize the house rules change now."

Brittany groaned. "Ugh, what?"

"Uhm," Tony tapped his chin thoughtfully, "no more closed doors—"

"No sneaking around. If you want to stay the night you have to ask," Anna added.

"We reserve the right to say no," Tony said.

"Even though we probably never will," Anna supplied with a smirk.

Tony tossed his head. "What are you doing, honey? If you tell them my secret plan they are going to walk all over us."

"Santana's been sneaking in since they were thirteen, I doubt your words are going to stop her now."

"Hey," Santana called out, "I can follow rules."

"You just choose not to," Brittany replied with a nudge to her shoulder.

"Babe, my side. _My_ side."

And then it dawned on her. She had just called Brittany "babe" in front of her parents. They had just enjoyed a meal as a couple, had joked around with them about their relationship, and weren't immediately banned from the house. Santana could imagine doing it for the rest of her life. Brittany's family was her family. It always had been; just because their dynamic had changed didn't mean _their_ home was no longer hers.

"Whatever." Brittany pushed her shoulder again, completely unaware of Santana's revelation.

"Alright," she glanced up at the clock above Tony's head on the wall and checked the time, "I think I need to get going. Thank you guys for dinner. And for everything else."

"You don't need to thank us," Anna said pleasantly, "hope to see you soon."

"So breakfast tomorrow then," Tony asked, holding up his fist for her to bump.

She laughed and curled her hand into a fist to meet his. "We'll see."

"I'll walk you out," Brittany said and stood up from the table. Santana followed to her feet and smiled at them, waving goodbye.

They walked out through the living room, and towards the front door.

"You okay," Santana asked, "You got a little quiet there for a second."

When they stepped through the doorway, Brittany turned around and wrapped her arms around Santana's neck. "I'm so happy right now," she whispered. She tilted her head to the side and kissed the skin under Santana's jaw.

"Me too," Santana said and wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist.

Brittany leaned back so they could look at each other. "Call me when you leave your grandma's okay?"

"I will," Santana kissed her quickly, "I promise."

"Even if it's bad," Brittany asked.

Santana nodded and kissed her again, holding longer than before and lightly tugging on Brittany's lip. "I'll talk to you later."

"I'll _see_ you later." Santana knew it was her way of saying good luck and that whatever happened with her abuelita would be okay.

xx

Brittany decided to stay downstairs so she could meet Santana at the door when she came back. It was only eight o'clock and she had been flicking through random television channels as she waited. With how well her parents took the news, she silently prayed Santana's grandma would be the same. Brittany had only seen the woman once at a dance recital and she looked nice enough. Santana hadn't ever invited her over to her house, using the reason that sometimes her grandma didn't say the nicest things. When she asked why Santana liked her, even if she was mean, she replied that her grandmother had provided little pieces of wisdom growing up that enlarged the respect she held for her. Brittany knew Santana was practically raised around the idea of respect so she didn't ask any more questions.

Her phone, tucked neatly in her sweatpants, started vibrating against her thigh. It took a minute for her ringtone to start up.

_I've been trying so hard, can't get you out of m—_

"Hello," she greeted Santana and instantly heard sniffling on the other end of the call, "What's wrong?"

"Didn't go well," Santana creaked out.

"Where are you?"

Santana coughed into the receiver. "In the car, on my way home. I really want to talk to my mom."

"What did she say, S?"

"That she—," Brittany heard the crying get louder, "didn't-didn't want to see me ever again."

Hearing Santana's shattered voice was making her heart ache. It wasn't supposed to keep happening. Brittany hoped after the initial backlash, it would've just gone away. She had promised Santana it was going to get better, but something was always there to set them back.

"It's going to be okay, Santana. She probably was just shocked, she didn't mean it."

"You weren't there. She meant it. I've never seen her look so serious." She heard Santana punch something and figured it was the steering wheel. "I was so stupid to say anything."

Brittany sat forward on the couch so she was hunched over. "You're not stupid. You're not. Please, just come over and we can talk about it."

"I want to Brittany, I do, but I—," Santana cleared her throat loudly, "I just—I just want to talk to my mom right now, okay? You're fine, we're fine. I need to talk to her though, alright?"

"Of course, Santana, I understand. Text me or something," she said, "Let me know what's going on."

"I will," Santana said. Her voice sounded distant for a second as she continued to talk, "I'm home. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay." She paused for a second and then asked, "Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Two out of three isn't bad, right?"

Through a thick voice she heard Santana laugh once. "No it's not bad."

"I love you, Santana."

"I love you too, Britt."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading as always :) I'm waiting for mixed reception of that first scene, so come at me :0

**;)**


	41. you just gotta give me time

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: So, after you read can anyone who reviews let me know if I should change the rating? Cause I couldn't decided if I should or not. There's your hint about his chapter. No seriously though, I wanted to play around with Rachel's character this chapter so there is a lot of her. You'll realize about eighty-nine percent of this is Faberry and that is because they will be absent from the next two chapters and I know some of you have been wanting more of them so I obliged. I hope you like this chapter :) Thank you very much for all of the reviews, I love when you guys have awesome stuff to say :) It makes my day!  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>The next day Brittany woke up shivering under the cover of a green knit blanket draped carefully around her midsection. She hadn't moved upstairs after receiving the call from Santana and decided to just crash on the couch. Her shorts didn't do much to sheath her chilled flesh the night before and she was glad someone had bundled her up. Brittany rubbed both of her eyes with the top of her forearm as she sat up and stretched.<p>

The house was lit up with the bright morning sun as it bounced off the dark wooden entertainment center and coffee table. A faded scent of bacon and sausage filled the light air and she tried to focus on the kitchen to see if she could hear her mom and dad. Sure enough, there was the light sound of conversation and a little rustling that could have been them cleaning up the kitchen.

'_Actually,_' Brittany thought, it sounded like someone was jumping up and down. But why would they be jumping around doing dishes? _'Maybe they can't reach the top shelf,'_ she reasoned as she lifted herself from the couch and shuffled sleepily towards the kitchen.

To her surprise the commotion in the kitchen was not her parents, well not both of them—Anna was sitting at the table flipping through a magazine with a picture of a lawn on it—but Santana and Chrissy were in the most open part of the tile. They both had their fists on their hips and were looking straight ahead, but she could hear Santana counting under her breath. Brittany smiled as she leaned against the doorway, blocked from view by the fridge, and watched Santana teaching her sister basic cheerleading moves.

Santana was dressed very casually, normal for her house, wearing black sweatpants and a baggy gray t-shirt. Her hair was messily tied up in a bun and she had on a minimal amount of makeup that must have been left over from the previous night. Brittany ran fingers through her own hair and tried to straighten the tangles. The motion of her arm attracted her mom's attention when Anna turned and smiled secretly at her. Brittany smirked and let eyes drift back to Santana.

Brittany could see the red puffiness around the edges of her eyelids that would be undetectable to anyone who wasn't looking for it. In contrast, her actual eyes were not anywhere as cloudy or stormy as they had been earlier in the week. The dark irises were joyful and teasing as she bumped her hip into Chrissy's and Brittany watched her play. And although her body moved a little tiredly, it wasn't dejected or stiff. Brittany didn't know she could ever feel so relieved at just seeing Santana be 'okay.'

"Do you want breakfast," her mom suddenly asked.

Startled, Brittany jumped out of her skin and stumbled further into the kitchen in full display to Santana and her sister. "Breakfast," she asked dumbly.

"Food you eat in the morning," Anna teased. Brittany rolled her eyes and Santana chuckled from her place next to Chrissy.

Brittany shook her head. "Yeah, sure."

"Good," Anna stood up and dropped the book to the table, "get it yourself then." She winked at Santana and took her youngest daughter by the hand and led her out of the room.

Santana walked two steps over to the island and leaned both of her elbows down against the brown marble counter. "I could make you something," she said sweetly.

Brittany smiled. The grin on Santana's face was making her heart swell and pound against her ribcage. She had been starting to miss the sweet, playful part of their relationship since it had taken a backseat to all of their drama, and knowing Santana was easily slipping back into her grasp was delightful.

"You don't have to," Brittany muttered and stepped forward. She grabbed one of the plates on the counter and grabbed three pancakes out of the leftover dish on the table. Santana had already poured syrup into a cup and was on her way to put it in the microwave when Brittany grabbed her arm. "What're you doing?"

Santana's forehead creased. "Heating up your syrup. I'm allowed to do that for you, right?" She tugged playfully out of Brittany's hold and put the mug into the white microwave above the stove.

Brittany looked behind her and made sure no one was in the room before stepping forward and twisting Santana around with a hand on her hip. She pinned her to the counter and put the other hand on Santana's other hip and leaned in. Santana's eyebrow arched up and she reached back and grabbed the countertop with both hands.

"Can I help you?"

Brittany shrugged teasingly. "My lips were just a little lonely."

Squinting, Santana inched forward and whispered, "I think I can actually help with that."

"Yeah," Brittany asked, only a breath away from Santana's full lips. She could feel the hot air from both of their lungs mixing in front of their mouths and the tension of Santana waiting for her to close the gap. Brittany waited an extra second before…

"You know one thing I've always loved about this house." Her dad's booming voice filled the kitchen as he walked straight to the fridge. Brittany snapped back from Santana and came to a rest on the counter next to her. Santana was panting and staring at the floor diligently. "There aren't a lot of doors, so if I want to know what's going on in one part of the house, all I have to do is walk in. Except the bathrooms, of course." Tony turned to them and asked, "Don't you girls just love that?"

To Brittany's amusement, Santana's head bobbed up and down in agreement. Brittany stifled a laugh to glare at her father. "You're hilarious."

He walked forward and kissed Brittany on the forehead. "Just try to be a little more discreet. I could have been your sister. And I'm not explaining that one to her; you can have full reigns there." On his way out the door, he turned back and pointed at his eyes and then back to Santana, signaling 'I'm watching you.' Brittany rolled her eyes again and Santana chuckled at her.

"If you keep doing that people are going to think I'm rubbing off on you," Santana teased, tapping Brittany's nose. The microwave beeped behind her head and she turned to pull the steaming cup from the inside and stepped over towards Brittany's plate.

Brittany smirked realizing how easy of a set up that was and wondered if Santana said it on purpose. "I think people already know you're rubbing off on me."

Santana's neck twisted towards her and she shook her head. "Nope. You could have done better."

Brittany hung her head in defeat. "I thought that was good."

"Sorry Britts, it's just not your game," Santana joked and set the plate on the kitchen table. She motioned for Brittany to sit, which she did.

Santana took the seat next to her and leaned her head down on her arms and watched her eat. Brittany self-consciously took small bites, knowing she was being watched, and wiped at her face after each one.

Halfway through her stack, she turned in her chair and eyed Santana. "So how are you?"

"Decent, considering," she said simply.

"Considering?"

Santana shut her eyes and seemed liked she was trying to remember something. Like facts, Brittany listened to her say, "My mom said, 'Just give her time. She has to know it's a different generation and this kind of thing is more accepted now.' She basically told me she'd come around, which is bullshit."

Brittany ate another forkful of pancake and asked, "Why do you think that?"

"'Cause no one else was there and saw the way she looked at me. Like I was nothing."

Brittany dropped her fork to the plate and grabbed onto Santana's forearm. "You're not nothing."

Santana let out a frustrated wheeze of air. "I know, B."

"There's so much of you."

"Are you calling me fat?"

Brittany laughed. "No, I just mean you're something. There's a lot to you."

Smirking, Santana joked, "I'm pretty sure you're still calling me fat. If you want me to stop eating breadsticks I don't know if I can handle that."

"Shut up," Brittany smacked her, "you know that's not what I mean."

"Ow, abuse." Santana scooted her chair back and Brittany scooted hers forward so they were closer. "Thanks."

"You're going to be okay. And we're going to be okay. And school's going to be okay, and we're going to win sectionals and that'll be okay. Rachel might not be okay about losing but she'll be okay. Quinn's on her way to being okay."

"So I'm guessing everything's going to be okay?"

Brittany believed it. "Yep."

"I believe you." Brittany loved the way Santana's eyes sparkled at her. All of Santana's looks were the best, but the blissfully happy one always beat out the rest. She was used to Santana bottling up everything and scowling extra when something was wrong, but here she was shutting the pain out. A happy Santana was an entirely happy Brittany.

"Do you have plans today," she asked hopefully.

"With you," Santana answered with a smile, "what are they?"

"Movies and cuddling?"

"Is that allowed with our new rules?"

'_Crap,'_ Brittany thought. She had forgotten about that new stipulation to their relationship. When she meant cuddling she had a little more in mind for them. But with the new open door policy, that might be a bit of a problem. Brittany groaned realizing cuddling was probably all she was going to end up with.

"As long as we keep the door open," Brittany said bitterly.

Santana leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Can you be quiet," she whispered against Brittany's reddening skin.

"Have I ever been?" Santana rolled her eyes and Brittany laughed. Pulling away, she asked, "Do you care if I take a shower first?"

Much to her confusion, Santana's eyes lit up devilishly and she nodded. Brittany stood up and put her plate in the sink, pulling Santana along by her hand. In the living room, Anna looked up from the homework she was helping Chrissy with and set her mouth in a firm line.

"Where are you two going?"

Brittany came to a halt and pointed at her chest, "I'm taking a shower, and Santana," she pointed at her girlfriend, "will be far across the hall in my bedroom waiting for me. Where I won't end up until I am fully clothed."

"And the door will remain," Anna prompted.

"The bathroom door," Brittany asked as she scratched her head. _'What if dad walks in,'_ she shuddered.

"Open as long as we are in there alone," Santana finished her mother's thought and Brittany nodded.

Anna raised her eyebrows sternly in warning again and then smirked. Brittany didn't realize what the big deal was. She was pretty sure they hadn't been overly sneaky in the past and had always thought her mom knew what was really going on. She guessed it was just parents being parents. If they really meant it, Santana wouldn't be allowed anywhere near her bedroom.

Hand in hand they climbed up the stairs together, knocking into each other as they went because of the narrow staircase and laughing all the way to her bedroom. Brittany walked across the room and opened up her dresser, pulling out underwear, a bra, and the going down a few drawers to find pajama pants and a t-shirt. Santana jumped on her bed and buried her face in Brittany's pillow. Chuckling, Brittany walked over and smacked Santana's butt, hard, before running out of her room. As her door shut, she heard Santana yelling, "You're going to pay for that."

Xx

Halfway into her shower, Brittany heard wood creak outside the door. It could have easily been her mom or dad in the closet at this end of the hall, but as the air in the room changed, she realized there was only one person with a purpose to be near the bathroom.

"You're going to get us in trouble," she called out to the room.

After a light snicker, she heard the sound of clothing hitting the ground and the curtain being pushed forward behind her to allow Santana entry. Brittany smiled feeling water splash the back of her ankles as Santana stepped towards her.

"This isn't breaking any rules. I left the door cracked open."

"Really?" She didn't really want to worry about someone upstairs hearing them in the shower together.

"Your bedroom door," Santana amended and Brittany could hear the defiant smirk on her face.

Cold hands closed around her hips and Brittany gasped as she was being pulled back into Santana's body. Feeling Santana's naked breasts pushed into her back made Brittany's eyes want to roll in the back of her head. "Your hands are cold," she whispered. Santana started placing small kisses on her wet shoulders and her hands shot up to cover Santana's.

"Mmm," Santana hummed, "yours are warm."

Brittany tilted her head back and captured Santana's top lip in an incomplete kiss. Her lower lip hung in between Santana's parted mouth and she waited for the other girl to take initiative. Santana responded by gently turning her and backing her up into the side wall of the shower. Before Brittany had a chance, Santana's mouth was on hers firmly and sucking on her top lip. The sensation drove her crazy and she wrapped both arms around Santana's neck, keeping her close. Her hands tangled in the half-wet, half-dry hairs at the base of Santana's neck and tugged gently. Santana licked the inside of Brittany's top lip and she rewarded her with full access to her tongue. Santana's hips pushed into hers and Brittany glided one hand down the taut skin on her back and down to the curve of her ass and dragged their bodies together again.

Santana's right hand stretched out to caress Brittany's stomach with the pads of her fingers and trailed the south down to her core. Their mouth's detached as Santana slid into her and Brittany grabbed Santana's closer to bite down on her shoulder in an effort to silence herself.

When Brittany's own hand started to travel around the inside of her hip, it was stopped by Santana's free hand and replaced on her back. "No," she said breathily, "it's fine."

Barely able to speak, Brittany asked, "W-why?"

"You've taken care of me, ah," Brittany jerked against her cutting Santana off momentarily, "all, all, um, all week, and now it's my turn."

Realizing that didn't mean she couldn't play around, Brittany used most of her remaining willpower to reach a hand up and caress Santana's breast. Feeling Brittany's fingers toying with her nipple caused Santana's fingers to speed up and become more deliberate.

Santana latched onto Brittany's neck and lightly scraped her teeth across the tender flesh. When she found a more sensitive spot, she bit a little hard and then smoothed it over with her tongue and a kiss. Brittany dug her fingers into Santana's shoulder blades and groaned softly

She felt her stomach coiling tight and was shocked at how quickly the sensation had taken over her body. After a last curl of her fingers, Santana's mouth covered Brittany's again to silence her moan.

Xx

With Brittany curled up in her arms and dozing on her chest, Santana saw Anna pop her head in the door. She could tell she was expecting to catch them in something and had a pleased smile on her face when she saw they were just snuggling. _'Should have checked the bathroom,'_ Santana smirked as she flexed her legs remembering how insistent Brittany had been about returning the favor on the counter.

"Funny, Santana," Anna mused to her quietly, "I remember Brittany saying she was the one who was taking a shower." Santana saw that Brittany's mom wasn't looking at her face but the wet hair surrounding her face and her stomach dropped. Walking out of the door, she heard Anna say, "_Weird._"

Reaching up and covering her face she felt a gentle buzzing under her skin. "What," she asked Brittany who was smiling up at her.

"Busted."

* * *

><p>"It's a Sunday, I have homework to do," Finn protested as he drove towards the Champions Grill where they were meeting Kurt and Blaine for lunch. Initially Rachel's idea, Kurt jumped at the chance to double date. Blaine had a hard time saying no to Kurt's squeals of excitement—or so Rachel figured from what she heard through the telephone receiver—and agreed. Finn had been the only one resistant to the idea and Rachel decided he wouldn't have had a hard time if they were meeting any other couple, or were going to Breadstix.<p>

"You mean you have xbox to play," Rachel offered reluctantly.

Finn glared at her for a half second before turning back to the road. "No, I have homework. I know everyone thinks I'm dumb as a rock but I actually do my homework," he frowned, "sometimes."

"I know, Finn, I was just teasing," she said. _'Sort of,'_ she added mentally. Hadn't that been what he was doing when she called him?

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in a booth across from Kurt and Blaine, discussing the outfits Mr. Schuester had suggested for Sectionals. She minded Finn enough to wrap her arm in his every few seconds or pat his leg encouragingly. He hadn't contributed much to the conversation, but she knew it wasn't his fault given their current company.

When she thought he was thoughtfully perusing the menu, Finn suddenly turned to her and asked, "Do you want to split a steak or something? Or a burger. Wait," he smiled proudly, "you can get a burger and I'll get a steak and we can go half-half."

Rachel's eyes flitted to Kurt and Blaine who both stared at Finn in disbelief. She had sort of come to terms with Finn's oafishness when it came to simple things like her diet, but that didn't mean every time he forgot it didn't hurt her feelings.

"Vegan, Finn, remember? I'm having a salad." Uncomfortable from the attention they were receiving from their friends, Rachel picked up her menu and shielded her face from everyone at the table. She even let herself have a subtle sniffle as she pretended to read the choices of foods she would never partake in enjoying. Two of the three people at the table knew something about her that the third should have had ingrained in his memory from years of knowing each other. Maybe Finn didn't know her as well as she hoped.

"That's commendable, Rachel," Blaine blurted out to get her attention, "not many people have that kind of discipline." She thought she heard an edge in his words that were no longer directed at her.

Lowering the menu she smiled at him. "Thank you, Blaine. It was actually quite an easy decision. I love animals therefore I will do anything to see they aren't harmed."

"Admirable," Kurt said, "maybe I'll try that as a next diet option. You seem to keep the pounds off easily."

Rachel blushed at the compliment. The only person who ever complimented her appearance was Finn and those were few and far between. "Thank you, Kurt."

"Rachel's smokin'," Finn said and smirked at her.

She was sure she caught an eye-roll from the other side of the table. Whether it was Kurt or Blaine she didn't know, and actually wouldn't have been surprised if it came from both of them.

"Thank you, Finn," she leaned up and pecked his cheek. His smirk widened under her lips and she smiled as she sat back in her seat.

Blaine interrupted their moment by saying, "Someone else we know is vegan or vegetarian, right?"

Rachel of course knew the answer but kept her mouth shut as their drinks were placed in front of them. Kurt squinted into the air trying to place the person and she felt like she might actually have to divulge the information.

"Quinn," Finn finally said.

In surprise, Rachel's head snapped to the side to stare at him. _'He knows Quinn is vegetarian? And he can't even remember that about me, his current girlfriend?'_

His eyes met hers and he shrugged apologetically. "She used to yell at me whenever I brought her burgers."

Kurt raised his hand. "But I remember Mercedes specifically telling me how that girl could devour an entire pack of bacon in one sitting."

Rachel started elaborating without reserve, "Bacon was her pregnancy craving. As much as she hated herself for doing it, she couldn't help but eat it. It's sort of her only vice. She used to tell me that it made giving up every other kind of meat easier."

Everyone at the table stared at her in silence and she wondered why until realizing the mouthful of words that had just spilled from her. They sounded like intimate details that Quinn really wouldn't have spoken to just anyone, and in reality they weren't. They were all confessions during one serious conversation they had the previous year when they were dating. But she couldn't explain to them how she knew the information and stumbled for an explanation.

"She-she told me last year, you know, when we were friends, and close."

Kurt's eyebrows rose inquisitively and Rachel detected that his mind was putting something together. She hoped he hadn't caught on as easily as he appeared to have. "You two were…close," he stated.

"It's weird she told you stuff like that," Finn said as he scoured the restaurant for their waitress. His foot tapped impatiently under the table awaiting their food.

"What happened there," Blaine asked, "I mean, what changed?"

Her heart was pounding ferociously and she was fighting to keep her face still and unresponsive. _'Because she wouldn't just love me,'_ was the first thought in her mind and she was happy her mouth hadn't let that slip as well. "Quinn just started being Quinn again. The one from before the baby and everything." It was an easy enough answer. They had all seen Quinn when she returned to school, and while it hadn't been in a Cheerio's uniform, the head cheerleader intimidation was back full force.

"Aren't you sad that friendship is gone?" Kurt's head turned to Blaine and gave him an incredulous glare. Rachel wanted to smirk at the concern on his face when she realized the implication in Blaine's voice. He was asking if she was sad about their 'break-up'—even if he didn't know that's what it was—because he already knew the answer.

"Very," she said simply. No one really understood how sad she was about it.

"She's bad news," Finn muttered, watching their waitress near the table, "all she did was torture you."

"Quinn seems very different, Finn," Rachel was startled to hear Kurt answer his step-brother, or even to hear him defend Quinn.

"She still scowls at everyone who looks at her," Finn said, "what's different?"

Unable to suppress her instinct to protect her, Rachel growled, "You don't know anything about Quinn."

"And you do?"

"Yes, I do," she answered before thinking again.

"Alright," Kurt called their attention, "enough fighting. Let's just eat."

Rachel wasn't hungry anymore and wasn't particularly interested in continuing any conversation with them. Blaine started to discuss football with Finn and lamented over his lost scholarship, mentioning the talent of Ohio State's football team. While they were distracted, Kurt lightly tapped her foot with his to gain attention. When she looked over, Kurt smiled sympathetically at her. She returned it timidly realizing that Kurt might know a lot more than Quinn or even she wanted him to.

* * *

><p>On Monday morning, against both of her fathers' advisement, Rachel asked Finn for a ride to school. She even ignored his reminders about her suspension by reasoning that she needed to pick up her schoolwork so she didn't fall behind in classes. He accepted that explanation blindly and had no idea of her real desire to go to school.<p>

It'd been three days since she talked to Quinn and Rachel missed her. She knew that she shouldn't feel such a strong need to hear the girl's voice, but after their blowout the week before, Rachel felt tortured by silence. Her text messages had been ignored and while it hurt, she also understood it. Quinn had often preached the depersonalization behind mobile conversations, especially important ones. Rachel's best bet was to corner—for lack of a better word—Quinn in school and try that approach.

Quinn was standing at her locker exchanging the books in her arms. She hadn't seen her yet and Rachel took the opportunity to gauge Quinn's mood based on her expression. Her mouth was set in an exhausted line and her hazel eyes were deep in thought; in Rachel's opinion, one of Quinn's best looks. Something was obviously on her mind and she was doing the contemplative lip bite Rachel had found incredibly sexy over the years. Quinn spent a lot of time in her head and Rachel often had to prod her for insight. And while sometimes there were explosive responses, occasionally she would just smile, explain herself and then kiss Rachel on the forehead. Rachel originally thought she was being condescending, but later realized it was just gratitude for taking an interest in her thoughts. She could almost feel the familiar tingle of Quinn's lips against her skin.

Rachel shook her head defiantly and tried to clear the thoughts from her mind. _'Stop thinking about Quinn,'_ she warned herself.

Quinn slammed her locker shut and turned to see Rachel standing across the hallway staring at her. The instant look of confusion was immediately replaced by aggression as she stomped towards her.

"What," Quinn demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you just standing here staring at me? You know I have a mirror in my locker, right? You've been in this spot for like five minutes."

The blood that had been coursing in Rachel's throat burned into her cheeks and she flushed with embarrassment. She didn't know Quinn could see her and felt stupid for acting like a stalker.

When she didn't say anything, Quinn took a deep breath and released it. "Did you need something?" The question was formal and she could tell Quinn just wanted her to say no and leave.

"I was actually, just," Rachel stammered, "wondering if you wanted vocal lessons, for sectionals." _'You were wondering, what,' _her inner voice scrambled, but the words just kept pouring out. "You have a magnfic—a wonderful voice and I just thought you might want some extra practice."

Quinn stared at her doubtfully. "No, thanks. I think I can handle it."

Rachel wanted to be relieved at Quinn's rejection but she actually felt disappointed. Subconsciously she must have wanted her to say yes, wanted Quinn to _want_ to spend time with her again. Again, Rachel scolded herself. She shouldn't have wanted that so much. Shouldn't have wanted Quinn.

"Oh, okay. Well, I hope you have a lovely day."

Quinn gave her a ridiculous, forced smile and brushed past. Rachel hung her head back and twirled around to lean against the lockers. In frustration she pounded the bottoms of her fists against the metal and sighed heavily.

* * *

><p>Wednesday night, Brittany and Santana decided to run through the choreography for their performance the following night a few more times to have it down. While Brittany was her usual, perfect dancing self, Santana had reverted to the stiff twelve year old who sat out and watched her friends because she didn't feel coordinated enough. Something was off and making the dance harder than it should have been.<p>

Brittany grabbed her hand and held it up in the air. "C'mon, it's not that hard, Santana."

Tightening the grip she had around Brittany's waist, Santana groaned. "It's not, I just can't do it."

"You dance every week in glee club just for fun. Just do that now."

"This is really intimate," Santana admitted. She thought that's why she might be having such a hard time committing.

"It's just us," Brittany insisted, "no one's here. And plus I thought we were okay in public now."

Santana dropped her arm from around Brittany and collapsed onto the concrete floor in the Pierce's basement. They had constructed a mini dance studio for Brittany, Quinn, and Santana to use when they were in middle school and it remained in use every year since. Brittany sat down in front of her and unfolded Santana's legs so she was sitting in between them, legs crossed. The tips of her knees pressed against the inside of Santana's and she massaged both of her thigh muscles with one hand each.

"What's wrong," Brittany asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Santana said, "I'm just nervous."

Brittany chuckled. "I'll never get used to you being nervous."

"Even if we're cool with it, doesn't mean everyone in that audience is going to be down with us dancing across the stage together."

"All of the girls are going to be in pairs."

"Yeah, but the audience also knows about me, so I'm sure they'll be watching us closer."

"It's not like we're going to have sex on stage," Brittany joked, "even if that would be totally hot."

Santana groaned and laid flat against the floor. "Not helping." She felt Brittany's hand trail to the outside of her thigh and was shocked to feel a sharp pinch, making her sit up and scowl. "Why'd you pinch me?"

"To get your attention." Brittany grinned. "You have to dance with me."

"I know that," Santana responded.

"I mean, I'm sure you could switch with that Sugar chick, but I don't think the judges would appreciate you smacking her halfway through."

"Probably not." Santana smirked at the thought.

"Everyone will be too focused on your singing to care about the dancing. I'll handle the dancing, you do the rest."

Santana knew she was just being stupid. She had learned the dance the first time Brittany and a few other Cheerio's had demonstrated it, but couldn't overcome her mental aversion to performing it. A competition was hardly the place for someone to single her out because of the commercial; if anything they'd be too focused on her flawless vocals. They had more important things to be worrying about than her; New Directions was obviously still tough competition. But without Rachel, Mercedes and her, Santana felt like they might actually stand a reasonable chance of winning.

"You lead then," Santana pleaded.

Brittany jumped to her feet and extended a hand to her. "My pleasure."

* * *

><p>'<em>After this performance,' <em>Quinn told herself, watching the third show choir sing. It was a powerful rendition of _Buenos Aires_ that she wouldn't have recognized if _Evita_ wasn't one of the movies Rachel had insisted she watch during a movie marathon the previous year. She had bartered one more _Harry Potter_ in exchange for watching Rachel's selection and surprisingly didn't regret her choice. But that might have been because she was entranced listening to Rachel sing-along to the movie under her breath.

After thunderous applause, Quinn climbed to her feet and exited the auditorium on a mission for Sheby's office. She was going to give her last warning to the woman in exchange for Beth. It was an easy enough decision, Quinn thought, 'Lose the baby you adopted to her _real_ mother, or lose your only career option.' Halfway down the hallway, Quinn stopped dead in her tracks.

"I know where you're going," Rachel called out. Quinn could hear the desperation in her voice.

Turning on her black heels, Quinn faced Rachel. She wanted to shake her head and criticize Rachel's appearance but held it back. "You want to go to Regional's, Rachel? Here's our chance."

Rachel closed the gap between them and was within two feet of her. "This stupid competition isn't worth the repercussions. You have to know that."

"I don't see the consequences actually. We win sectionals, I get Beth back, Puck realizes how stupid he's been. Everyone wins."

"What about Brittany and Santana? Or Mercedes for that matter. You're destroying your best friends chances of winning if you get Shelby fired."

"They'll still be able to compete," Quinn retorted. _'Right?'_

Rachel shook her head and the loose bangs on her forehead fell in front of her eyes. She reached up and brushed them back, stifling the urge for Quinn to do the same thing. "Not if they don't have a coach. And Santana'll be too stubborn to come back to New Directions if that happens."

"So what? There are more important things that glee club going on."

"Quinn," Rachel took another step forward, "I know you're hurting. The last few months couldn't have been easy. Seeing Beth again," Quinn's eyes started to glaze over with tears, "with seeing…me again." Red flashing lights blared in Quinn's head to turn around and walk away. She wanted to keep her composure but being around Rachel stole that desire before she could latch on. "You don't have to do this. I know you, and I know you think you're nothing, but you can work this out. I'll-I'll help you, I'll help. I've been trying to convince myself that you're the same person you were last year, when we were, well, together, but if you do this, I'll know she's gone."

"That's not fair," Quinn breathed. Rachel was playing an angle that they hadn't touched on in months. Their relationship had been disguised as a sick past they never spoke of. Hearing Rachel talk about them shifted Quinn's perspective on their failed relationship; she had remembered every moment as toxic and leading to the end for so long that it was startling to see Rachel still held her in such a positive light. Quinn was flooded with a sense of relief that she didn't know what to do with.

"You're better than this." Rachel breached the foot of space they had regulated each other since the unfortunate day under the bleachers and kissed her cheek. With one last parting smile, Rachel withdrew down the hall and entered the auditorium, leaving Quinn to stand in the wake of her kiss with two fingers pressed to her cheek.

* * *

><p>Winning sectionals wasn't much of a surprise to Rachel. Even without her, New Directions was a powder keg of explosive talent. What did surprise her the next day at school was Shelby still walking the halls proudly. Her mother showed disappointment at losing, but obviously hadn't been under Quinn's oppressive thumb. Rachel felt proud herself; she didn't expect her speech to work, and especially discredited her chances when she impulsively kissed Quinn's cheek. She couldn't really explain why it had happened, but she didn't regret it. Her instincts had proven correct.<p>

"Does Principal Figgins normally allow suspended students on school grounds?" Rachel smiled, knowing the voice behind her locker door. She shut it and revealed Quinn's beaming face. "Hey," Quinn said shyly.

"Hey," Rachel couldn't hide the surprise and joy on her face and Quinn seemed to enjoy seeing it there as well. "To answer your question, he doesn't appreciate me being here, but when has that ever stopped me."

Quinn nodded in understanding. "Noted. And to answer your question, I didn't go through with it."

"I kind of figured," Rachel replied.

"I wanted to thank you, though."

"Thank me?"

Quinn cleared her throat uncomfortably, something Rachel knew she did when she was being incredibly sincere. She always teased Quinn that she did it to make sure the other person was paying attention, and suggested she try to the Fabray-smirk instead since it was much more commanding.

"You stopped me from doing something I would have regretted for the rest of my life."

Rachel smiled and leaned her hip against the wall. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I'm thanking you for always thinking so much of me when I never really deserve it." Quinn's cheeks turned a very faint pink.

Rachel rested her fingers on Quinn's exposed arm. "You deserve more a lot more than you think you do. You mean a lot to me, Quinn and I want you to be happy."

Quinn nodded along vacantly and pursed her lips. "Not happy yet, but getting there."

Rachel shrugged playfully. "It's progress." Carefully, she asked, "What about Beth?"

Quinn face contorted into a dim smile. "I'll get to see her. I just need to get my life together right now. I've been a bit of a mess."

"A bit," Rachel teased.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn smirked. "Watch it, Berry."

"Berry," she said dismissively, "so should I assume we aren't friends then?"

"We're friends, as long as you want to be."

Rachel felt her face light up. She wanted to leap up and down in joy and throw her arms around Quinn in a celebratory hug but resisted. "I'd love that."

"Good," Quinn murmured, "so have you heard about Puck's party?"

Rachel laughed. "No, but I'm not surprised at his predictable choice of celebration."

Quinn smirked at her and it was the greatest feeling in the world. She was happy to have Quinn back in some context—in any context really. "Just glee club, and the newly disbanded Troubletones."

"Disbanded," Rachel asked in disbelief, "I find it hard to believe Santana or Mercedes swallowed their pride so easily."

Quinn brushed blonde hair behind her ear and chuckled. "I might have had a little to do with it."

"Oh?"

"I guess I still can be a little persuasive when it matters," Quinn replied coolly.

"Persuasive or intimidating?"

"Persuasive, and kind of sentimental."

Rachel laughed at the idea of sentimentality appealing to Santana. When she remembered the many times she had bore witness to Quinn and Santana's friendship, the idea made a little more sense.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, "but no, I hadn't heard about it as you probably can tell."

Quinn took an awkward breath. "Would you want to go with me? As friends."

Rachel's heart beat a little too thick in her chest. Did she want to go with Quinn? Of course she did. She craved her friendship again. "That sounds lovely, Quinn. But, I feel like Finn," she saw the flinch in Quinn's posture, "will want me to accompany him tonight."

Quinn frowned at first, but then nodded. "I understand. I'll just see you there then."

"Of course," Rachel replied with a beaming smile, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too." Quinn departed with a final smile and Rachel watched her leave.

As much as she wanted to tell herself the heartache had to do with a failed opportunity to rekindle their friendship, Rachel knew there was much more to it than that. Quinn came back from the summer pink-haired and as aggressive as ever; it was easy to put off her feelings because she knew that girl wasn't the one she had loved. But here was her Quinn, the New York City-Quinn who wanted to fight for her affections.

Never had Rachel felt like she needed to distance herself from Quinn more than she did right then. Right when she wanted to be near her the most.

Xx

Brittany had provided enough entertainment for Quinn to forget the rest of the party-goers. Like the last glee-club party, everyone over-indulged in alcohol and was hammered within the first hour—Quinn included. Finn and surprisingly Santana were the only ones to remain completely sober. After a round of quarters with Mike and Tina, Quinn was left alone as Brittany dashed off to drag Santana upstairs. She would have been confused if it weren't for Puck attempting to follow them and earning a swift kick in the balls from Santana.

Standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen, Quinn passed Rachel who was drunkenly slurring in Finn's lap. She avoided the glassy brown eyes that had been on her all night—for some odd reason—and went straight in. As she poured herself a rum and coke, Puck's sudden appearance scared her into spilling it across the counter.

"Damn it, Puck," she shouted.

Puck laughed and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Sorry, baby. You know I can't control myself when I'm drunk." He waggled his eyebrows and she glared at him through hazy eyes.

"Funny," she chided. _'Classy joke,'_ she thought bitterly.

"So, quick question hot mama. Why is Berry eye-fucking you across my living room?"

Short of breath, Quinn only managed, "W-what?"

Puck studied her face carefully and smirked. "I'm sure in the morning I'll chalk this up to my buzz but that response was more than telling, sweetheart. You never had much of a poker face."

"Shut up, Puck," Quinn growled. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she searched for a way to defend herself. "She's plastered, idiot. She doesn't know what she's doing. I could be a piece of furniture for all she knows."

"A sexy piece of furniture she wants to get all up on."

Quinn smacked the side of his head and he jerked. "Ow, that's my ear. It was just a question, gees Fabray." His scowl lifted into a smirk again. "No need to get so defensive."

She raised her arm to smack him again and was satisfied with the way he recoiled. Grabbing the half-empty drink from the counter she circled him and went back to the party. _'It's just Puck,' _she told herself_, 'he's not gonna even remember it in the morning.' _As she sat back down on the couch and watched Blaine and Tina dance around the room, she felt Rachel's eyes on her again. She willed the girl to cease fire on the stare that she had been ignoring all night or at least since Rachel had drunk enough to obviously disregard her self-awareness.

She had been excited to see Rachel enter the party, a little more than she should have been given the bitter looks on Rachel's and Finn's faces. If she had to guess they had been arguing and were relieved to be rid of each other almost immediately after walking into the party. But the more Rachel drank, and the flirtier she became, the closer Finn stuck to her. Especially when Puck was involved. Quinn had even been tempted to tear the two apart when they were partaking in an overly-friendly dance mirroring the shamelessness Brittany and Santana were exuding a foot away. Finn just got there first. They had exchanged a few words, nothing particularly worthwhile, and had spent most of the time on opposite sides of the room; Rachel clearly more eager to bridge that gap then Quinn allowed herself to be.

Giving up on her mental battle with Rachel, Quinn stood from the couch again and went towards the bathroom. After attempting to sit straight a few times on the toilet, tipping over a little too far each time, Quinn managed to pee successfully and was washing her hands when the door crept open. To her surprise, Rachel was standing with her back pressed to the door. Quinn tried to ignore the short plaid skirt that rose much farther than the ones she dared to wear at school and the dark green v-neck that put Rachel's cleavage on full display, but failed miserably.

"What are you doing," she managed to ask through a surprised gasp.

Rachel shrugged coyly. The move was too slack for the sexiness the girl was obviously trying to display and Quinn wanted to laugh. The determined expression on Rachel's face trapped the chuckle deep in her throat.

"Rachel?"

"I miss you," Rachel blurted out. It was articulated a lot more carefully than Quinn anticipated; like Rachel had been practicing to say it for awhile.

Quinn chuckled awkwardly. "I'm right here."

Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. "Not what I mean."

Quinn took a restraining breath and shut her eyes. "You're drunk, Rachel."

"So are you."

"You don't know what you're saying."

Rachel arched an eyebrow unsuccessfully. Quinn remembered the day she had tried to teach her how to perfect it and felt a dark twinge of nostalgia. "I don't think you know what I'm saying."

"You might think you're being subtle, but trust me, I got the hint." Quinn wished Rachel would just slip back out the door but knew it wouldn't be that simple.

Rachel took a step forward and Quinn instantly cursed Puck's mom for not buying a house with a bigger bathroom. She was trapped. The only way out was through Rachel and that wasn't going to be easy.

"I think you want this as much as I do."

"I don't." _'Lie.'_ "Just go back out to Finn, Rach. To the party."

Rachel's head tilted to the side in confusion. "You want me to be with Finn?"

'_Loaded question,'_ Quinn lamented. "Right now I do."

Before her eyes, Rachel's resolve crumbled. Her eyes filled immediately with tears and she leaned back against the bathroom door. Quinn moved forward and did what felt natural; she wrapped her arms around Rachel and squeezed. Rachel sobbed into her chest and clutched at her arms.

"You're okay, Rach. You're okay."

Rachel's muffled voice filled the small space between her lips and Quinn's neck. Quinn readjusted them so she could hear what the girl was saying.

"You don't love me. You never loved me. You never said it. Finn says it all the time, but you never said it."

Quinn bit her lip and shook her head. '_Don't,'_ she warned herself. Against her own wishes, she whispered, "That's not true." She compromised for not saying the actual words. She didn't want the first time she told Rachel to be in Puck's bathroom and with one of them so intoxicated they probably wouldn't remember it in the morning.

"It is," Rachel whined.

Quinn pulled Rachel up further so they were looking each other in the eyes. She brushed away stray tears from Rachel's chin and smiled. "It's not."

Before she could stop her, Rachel's lips were on her neck. The sensation was incredible and very familiar, and very wrong. She pushed Rachel back by the shoulders, with a little bit of a jerk to get the message across. Thankfully, their positions were now reversed and she was closer to the door. She opened it and turned her head back to Rachel who was watching her with sorrow-filled eyes again.

"Not like this, Rachel."

Quinn closed the door as she stepped out and threw herself against the opposite wall. She let her arms rest against the flowery wallpaper and buried her face in them, willing the alcohol to leave her system. She really didn't want to wait to be sober enough to go home or to interrupt Santana and Brittany and beg for a ride.

"You good, Q?" Santana and Brittany walked hand in hand down the hallway and came to a stop in front of her. Santana looked over her face carefully and must have seen the burning redness around her eyes that Quinn could feel taking over. "Time to go?"

Quinn nodded, grateful for her friend's understanding and followed them down the hallway. Brittany pulled away from Santana and wrapped her arm around Quinn's waist. Quinn smiled at her and rested her head against Brittany's shoulder as they left Puck's party, and Rachel, far behind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wrote the smut because I felt like it was necessary at this point in the story. Those scenes are few and far between for me as I'm sure you've realized by now :P When Rachel and Quinn were thinking I tried to throw in cute little anecdotes about their past since I didn't delve much into their relationship when they were actually dating. I kind of regret that now, but hey that just means I have ideas for another fic ;) Thanks for reading! **


	42. we swam without looking back

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: This isn't much but I wanted to put up what I had. There is two more chapters (or more) of this to come. I have a lot of places I want to go with this (haha that's funny but you don't know why yet) so it's enough content to last a couple chapters. I know I said Faberry would be gone but I ended up writing them one more scene because I wanted to get some faberrittana going. I'm going to try to write a lot more friendship between all of them in coming chapters. Anyways, enjoy a tiny installment.  
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**Tagme07-I hope Faberry isn't making people angry at this point cause I don't want to have to be a buzzkill and have to keep saying be patient lol we've got awhile  
>with them<br>**

**blueskkies-Brittana is fun to write without relationship drama. But rest-assured, I will find drama somewhere else ;)  
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**genetic- they will be back full force after the next few chapters, promise :) we have to ruin finchel don't we ? :)  
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**HecksYea-Thank you :) I'm trying to think of a situation to put Brittany with Maria and Victor to see how they work out and if it works as well as Santana with Anna haha  
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**-Holy crap, just realized a plot line for the Maria/Anna story- (that's your not so subtle hint even though i wasn't trying to hint anything)  
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**thetamarine-I hate Finn too :( glad you like the chapter :)  
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**Breakdown6-Expect a lot of funny Mr. Pierce. From one of the first chapters I wrote him-the dinner flashback where him and victor are teasing them-i wanted to make him mess with Santana. I've been waiting to use him for that purpose haha. Yay! I fixed your heart. *fist pump* Glad the smut was good. Those scenes still take me forever to write. I critique like very sentence because I'm so self conscious haha. Kurt knows, for sure. I never wanted Blaine and Finn to reconcile on the show. I wanted that to be a constant struggle for solos. It would have been interesting to see. So my Blaine will be anti-finchel for sure. Just wait, Rachel isn't the only one who is going to get drunk and confess her feelings :) Glad you liked it!  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>Brittany wasn't supposed to be home. Sure, it was her house so there was no reason she couldn't be in it, but she told her mom earlier that she was planning on spending the entire first day of break with Santana. They were supposed to be up at ten and on their way to the park to meet up with a couple of the glee kids for coffee. For Santana, Brittany knew ten meant twelve and they weren't ever going to make it on time. Unfortunately for Anna, but not for Brittany, she didn't know that. That's what led to Brittany, laying long-ways on the couch (out of sight), overhearing a phone conversation she really wasn't supposed to have heard.<p>

Anna's voice came in through the living room, "He's already made arrangements with another boy from school, one of the girl's friends, for the holidays."

Brittany knew she was talking about Rory, who planned on spending Christmas vacation with Sam while the Pierce's went on a cruise. She remembered the awkwardness of the conversation where they kind of begged him to find somewhere to stay for the two weeks and the immediate relief when he mumbled his assurances about being okay with the development.

"Yeah, she's been moping around our house. Dropping hints. Very subtle that girl of yours." Brittany heard the whir of the dishwasher accompaining her mom's voice. "She's wonderful with her. Definitely inherited your protectiveness. I like having her around."

Brittany's eyebrows perked up. '_That girl of yours?' _There was only one other person who lounged around their home who wasn't her or her sister—well if you didn't count Cuddles. _'Santana.'_

"You should have seen her at dinner last night," Brittany laughed, "she was dragging her fork around the plate trying to show us how disappointed she was." Santana wasn't too excited about their vacation and had being trying to make sure everyone knew it.

"Well, that's why I'm calling," Anna said, "Tony and I were discussing it and we decided that if it's okay with you and Vic, she could come along with us."

Brittany sat up instantly. "Wait a minute," she whispered to herself. Her eyes lighting up and heart pounding, Brittany leaped over the side of the couch and ran into the kitchen.

Anna, frightened at her sudden appearance, put a hand over her heart. "Jesus, Brittany. You scared me."

"Santana's coming with us?"

A disappointed frown settled on her mom's face. "It was supposed to be a surprise honey." After Brittany heard a mumbling from the phone, Anna spoke into the receiver, "apparently spending all day with Santana meant listening in on private conversations."

Another second passed and then with a disgruntled look on her face, Anna responded, "You didn't think it was a bit odd that Santana was still in bed when I told you Brittany was supposed to be there?"

It suddenly clicked for Brittany who her mom was talking to and she almost took the phone and hung it up. _'They can talk to each other,'_ Brittany told herself, remembering Maria and Anna were friends a lot longer than she had known about their history. She didn't even understand why she was having such a negative reaction to their conversation, but something about it felt wrong. The overwhelming feeling of betrayal nipped at the edges of her stomach.

"Alright, well I'll email you with the details. Wake that beautiful daughter of yours up and tell her mine is waiting on her," Anna laughed, "that should kick her butt into gear. Take care."

As her mom hung up the phone, Brittany couldn't help but utter, "Santana and I know about you and her mom."

She tried to remember the shock she felt seeing the picture in New York and how her face must've looked. Anyways, there was no comparison to Anna's expression. Her mouth hung open barely and her eyes wide. It was like one of Brittany's bizarre observations stumbled out and she was left in the aftermath of waiting for someone to correct her. But she knew what she said was correct and her mom should be the one doing the explaining.

"You know…"

"We know."

Anna's mouth bobbed open and shut a few times. "A-And Maria?"

"She knows we know."

"Did no one think I might want to know all this?"

Brittany teetered on her feet. "Well, Santana told her mom. So she kind of left it up to me to tell you. But I was kind of pretending it wasn't true."

She hadn't ever really seen her mom look hurt before, so when her face fell and she tucked her lips into her mouth, Brittany felt guilty.

"Sorry," she said instinctually.

"Why didn't you want it to be true?"

Unknown to Santana, Brittany had actually been thinking a lot about their parents being together. It was beyond weird to her. She had to think that maybe her mom didn't love her dad as much as she should have and had even considered the option that maybe she shouldn't have actually been born. The last part made her feel as dramatic as Rachel tended to act about everything, but she couldn't fight the nagging feeling that her mom might not have wanted the life she chose to begin with.

Brittany answered honestly, "I didn't want to think about you loving anyone else as much as you loved Dad."

Anna's features softened from the rigidity of sadness. "Sweetie, it has nothing to do with your father. I love him. There hasn't been a moment in my life where I've doubted that."

"So you wouldn't have chosen Mrs. Lopez if you could've?"

"Brittany," Anna started. She directed them to the table and motioned for Brittany to sit. "Our family works well because we prefer honesty, right? You would have told me about you and Santana if she hadn't asked you not to and that's a result of how we raised you and your sister. So I'm going to be honest with you now." The breath in between thoughts was menacingly long for Brittany. "Yes, I would have chosen to be with Maria if the situation was different."

Brittany wanted to stand up and leave. She didn't want to hear something like that about her mom and dad. But she asked for the truth and she was getting it so she settled for allowing tears to form as her reaction.

"Maria was already involved with Victor when we started talking again and even though I tried to rekindle our relationship, she was completely disconnected from that part of us. I'd seen her kiss him enough times to want to never see them again, but I knew I needed her in my life one way or another. Eventually, I got over her and I met your father and we fell in love."

"Wasn't that hard," Brittany asked.

"Judging from the amount of times I saw you crying when Santana was too busy to spend the night because she was on a date, I'd say you know how hard it is. Especially with Artie."

"I wanted to get over Santana last year but I was too in love with her to figure out how." It sounded so useless, but it was the truth.

"That's the kind of love you need to hold onto," Anna smiled at her, "it hurt to not be with Maria, but I _could_ get over it, and I did. She'll always be special to me, but it wasn't a forever kind of love."

"I loved Artie," Brittany said suddenly, "but now he's just kind of there."

Anna chuckled lowly. "Now you see my point."

Brittany sighed and grabbed the edge of the table, her eyes fixated into the wood grain. "You love Dad, and only Dad right?"

"Only him," Anna said and grabbed her hand, "It's the past, hun. It's called history for a reason."

Brittany had gone into the conversation with nothing but doubt and insecurity but with a few reasonable explanations, she knew there wasn't anything to worry about. She didn't want to think her mom had any lingering feelings for Santana's, and while she realized there would always be some form of love there, it wasn't something either woman would act on. There was a mutual agreement that their lives were set the first time they set foot back in Lima and that they wouldn't intertwine that way anymore. But Brittany was glad they had pushed the boundaries enough to let hers and Santana's lives mingle. Her life would have been remarkably different if it weren't for their past.

"Thank you."

Anna looked confused. "For what?"

"You gave up your happiness for mine. Even though you didn't really know it."

"Yeah, thank you." A trembling, sweet voice came from the kitchen doorway and Brittany looked over her shoulder and saw Santana standing there with her arms crossed and eyes bubbling over.

"Your mother and I are happy with how things turned out," Anna told Santana and Brittany respectively, "if we had to go through all of that pain and drama for the both of you to have enriching lives with one another, it was worth it." She grabbed Brittany's hand. "I mean it. I got to keep my best friend at the end of it. That's enough for me."

Brittany smiled at her mom and reached across the table to hug her. She wanted to tell Santana to come over and join them but when two arms closed around their embrace, she figured the girl could just sense what she was thinking. Santana's head was resting on top of hers and she released one arm from her mom to wrap around Santana's waist.

Anna pulled away and wiped a finger at the edge of her eyelid with a deep breath. "Now, why don't you tell Santana the good news."

Brittany sat back and grinned from her mom over to Santana. "Guess what?"

Santana chuckled. "I don't know, tell me."

"You're coming with us."

Santana's eyebrows shot up and she smiled. "What?"

"You get to come with us!"

Before she knew what was happening, Brittany was up and being swayed back and forth in a hug with Santana exclaiming her excitement.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," Santana was saying to Anna.

She could hear the smile in her mom's voice when she said, "Enjoy your Christmas present because you won't be getting anything else."

Santana dropped Brittany to her feet and pulled her eyebrows together. "Really?"

"No."

Brittany giggled. "You guys are so mean to her."

Anna stood up and wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulder. "She's just so easy."

"Don't have to tell me that," Brittany joked. Santana slapped her arm and Brittany looked over and saw her cheeks glowing red.

Anna raised an eyebrow and glanced back and forth between them before leaving with an awkward smile. "Make sure you two are packed tomorrow. We're leaving early," she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and grinned. "So I heard someone was waiting on me."

"Nuh uh, I was napping on the couch."

"We're your eyes open?"

Brittany pursed her lips in thought and then smiled. "Maybe."

"Liar," Santana teased and then leaned in to kiss her. Brittany put a hand on Santana's neck and glided her fingers against the soft skin, happy that she wouldn't have to go two weeks without kissing her favorite lips.

* * *

><p>Quinn had been in Rachel's bed plenty of times. They never "did" anything, but still, even seeing the flowery comforter brought back memories of the nights she spent as the big spoon, arms protectively around Rachel's tiny body. That's why when she first entered the girl's room, she opted for turning the white desk chair around and sitting cautiously with her legs crossed as Santana, Brittany, and her ex occupied the mattress.<p>

Rachel had her back to the headboard and was watching Quinn nervously; they hadn't talked about the night at Puck's and Quinn wasn't even sure if Rachel remembered it. Considering the way she was ignoring her since that day, Quinn figured she did.

Brittany was sitting in Santana's lap and had her head propped against her shoulder. Santana had an arm on either of her legs and was running her fingers over Brittany's sweatpants-covered thighs. She squinted her eyes at the walls and asked, "What's different in here?"

Rachel looked at her walls and frowned. "I painted. Why is it bad?"

"Yellows kinda bright, Berry," Santana teased, "how do you sleep in here?"

"I like it," Quinn admitted just loud enough for everyone to hear her. Santana smiled sadly and Brittany rolled her eyes up like she was trying to think of something.

Rachel ignored them and said, "Thank you, Quinn. I like it too."

"It's ugly."

Quinn wanted to walk over and smack Santana for being rude but stayed in her position on the chair. It wasn't really her place to defend Rachel anymore and Santana was only messing with her anyway.

"It's not that bad."

"It's very bad."

"Santana," Quinn interjected, "it really isn't."

She watched Rachel try to hide a grin and felt one of her own lips curl up in a tiny smile.

"Freaks," Santana muttered. Rachel hit her with a pillow and endured the scowl that came right after. "Watch it."

Rachel put her hands up and giggled. "I'm so very scared of you, Santana." Santana rolled her eyes and Quinn laughed at them. "I can't believe you guys are going to be gone for two weeks. What are we going to do without you here?"

"Hang out with each other," Santana suggested and Quinn shifted uncomfortably when she caught Rachel staring at her. Santana sighed. "Alright, you two need to cut this shit out."

"Santana," Rachel whispered.

"No, I'm serious. You two fighting is screwing up this whole dynamic we got going. All four of us get along or I insult the both of you, Brittany teases me, and you two team up to defend each other. Be friends." When no one said anything—Brittany was still searching the ceiling for a distant thought—Santana growled, "Now."

Quinn smirked and said in a stern voice, "Hey, Santana. You cut that out and stop making fun of Rachel."

"Yes, Santana," Rachel mocked, "I don't like the way you are treating Quinn."

"Asses."

Quinn exchanged a pleasant smile with Rachel and felt a tiny bit of their camaraderie return. Breaking them out of their private glance was Brittany interrupting with the thought she had finally remembered.

"Quinn's room used to be yellow," she exclaimed, "this yellow," she pointed at the walls.

As fast as the words were out of her mouth, Rachel's face turned bright red. Santana was grinning again and hid her face in Brittany's shoulder. Quinn really looked at the color for the first time and realized Brittany was right. It was exactly the same color as her room when they were little.

"Wow," she said simply.

"It wasn't on purpose," Rachel added loudly. Quinn could tell she wasn't lying but the damage was already done.

Santana chuckled. "This is embarrassing for you, huh, _Rachie."_

At the same time, Quinn and Rachel both yelled, "Shut up, Santana!"

They looked at each other and Quinn tried to smile at her but Rachel just turned her head away.

"Alls I'm saying is you two can hang out over break while we're gone. I mean, I'm sure Finnept has wonderful things planned, but I'm sure Q's much better company."

Once again, Quinn resisted the urge to smack her friend for being so blunt. Everyone knew what she was doing. Brittany digging her nails into Santana's arm was a proof of that fact.

"I'm sure Quinn will be busy with her mom, and I'm sure Frannie is coming in town for the holiday."

Quinn nodded. Frannie wasn't coming but she did have her mom to consider. She'd spent a lot of the last few months locked in her bedroom and thought Christmas would be the best time to make up for it.

"Plus Finn has been adamant about spending Christmas together and doing all of the 'normal' activities together."

A knife probably would have been a kinder blow to her chest but Quinn asked anyway, "Like?"

"Picking and decorating a Christmas tree, shopping, mass…"

Santana's abrupt laughter cut her off so Quinn ignored her resolve and went over to slap her on the arm. Brittany dodged out of the way, partly onto Rachel's lap and watched them with laughter in her eyes as Quinn tackled Santana backwards on the bed and they wrestled.

"What's your," Quinn grumbled, "problem, Santana? What's so funny?"

Through strained laughter, she answered, "She's Jewish, Q. Finnsolence is fucking hilarious. Maybe he can cook her a turkey dinner too."

Rachel groaned and stood up from the bed. "As flattering as it is for you to remember that about me, Santana, I think you're out of line."

"Short stuff, I think everyone," Quinn landed a hit into her stomach, "low blow_, Quinnie."_

"You can't ever just keep your mouth shut can you?" She gasped when Santana dug her nails into her shoulder.

Santana laughed. "Last year you'd be thanking me for this-"

"Shut your mouth, idiot!"

"We are adults," Rachel said through laughter.

"Screw that," Santana pushed Quinn's arms off her and rolled them over, "this bitch is going down for slapping me."

"You wanted them to defend each other," Brittany said.

"With words, babe, not physically."

"Aw, what's wrong, _Sani_, can't take me?" Quinn elbowed her arm away and put Santana in a headlock.

Sputtering, Santana growled, "Let me go, Q."

"Nope."

"Do it."

"Um…no."

Quinn knew she was stronger than Santana, and even if they were acting childish, she wanted to get her point across. It wasn't ever and would never be okay to screw with Rachel again. Even if she agreed that Finn was an idiot and wanted to say something, Santana didn't have to open her mouth.

Finally relaxing her body and realizing there was no way out of the headlock other than under Quinn's will, Santana asked, "What do you want loser?"

"Quit saying stuff to Rachel, I'm sure she doesn't appreciate it."

When she looked up to check for Rachel's approval, Quinn realized that she and Brittany weren't on the bed anymore. They actually weren't even in the room. She released Santana and stood up.

On her way out of the room, she heard Santana yell, "Where the hell did everyone go?" Santana caught up to her on her way down the steps and they wandered into the living room where Brittany and Rachel were talking in huddled voices. When they approached, the two parted and watched the television like they hadn't just been in a conversation.

"Subtle," she heard Santana mumble under her breath as they dropped down on the couch. Rachel was on the far left side with Brittany next to her and that left Quinn on the opposite side next to Santana.

"Are you two done now," Rachel asked.

"Santana lost." She didn't hide the pride in her voice or flinch when Santana punched her in the shoulder.

"San," Brittany chided and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Good, now can we spend the rest of the day acting mature since we won't be seeing each other for the next two weeks?"

"Gees, Berry, didn't think you'd miss me that much."

Quinn glanced over and saw the bright smile on Rachel's face. "I will miss you, Santana. You three are the closest as I've had to friends the last four years and I will definitely miss you and Brittany."

"I might cry."

Quinn punched Santana in the shoulder again and earned a scowl. "Shut it, Lopez." She was taking a little of her frustration out on Santana because Rachel hadn't said anything about missing her over the break. _'You aren't going anywhere,'_ she reminded herself, _'but doesn't that just make it worse?'_

"And, Quinn?"

Rachel was smiling at her like she had the day after Sectionals. That perfect, adorable, beaming smile that made Quinn's heart inflate with joy.

"I hope to see you over break."

"You can count on it."

She had already bought Rachel a Hanukkah present after all, even if she didn't need to know it yet.

After hearing a fake gag, Quinn slammed her fist into Santana's arm one final time, not removing her eyes from Rachel's for one second.

* * *

><p>Santana wiped at the corner of her mouth. It was just Brittany, but drool marks were still not sexy. Especially considering the remains were dried on Brittany's shoulder where her head had rested for the last six hours. She leaned her head through the middle of the front seats and checked the time.<p>

_10:23_

She growled and plopped her head back on Brittany's arm. She was on the right side, with Brittany in the middle, and Christine on the left. Anna turned around and smiled at her.

"Fourteen hours till Florida!"

Santana closed her eyes at the loud noise and buried her face into Brittany's shoulder that was twitching as she stirred.

Brittany opened one eye and looked at her.

"You know what's fun about twenty hour car rides," Santana whispered roughly to her. Brittany shook her head slowly. "Absolutely nothing."

* * *

><p>The boat was huge. <em>'Crap,<em>' Brittany scolded herself, _'the ship,'_ Santana had explained to her the difference on the last hour of the trip. There were flocks of people gathered outside of small ramps going onto the different decks and Brittany bounced on her seat in anticipation.

"What about our car," Chrissy asked.

"It stays here until we get back," Tony said as he pushed the shifter into park. Brittany watched him survey the crowd and push a hand back through his fluffy blonde hair. She was happy he kept his hair so far; Santana's dad had gone bald when they were in middle school and she thought he just looked funny without it. Santana use to say that because she made fun of her dad, that her mom was going to lose her hair. Luckily, Anna hadn't experienced that yet.

"I have a surprise for you," Santana whispered in her ear.

Brittany grinned and asked, "Oh yeah?"

Opening her door and stepping out, Santana said, "I can't tell you what it is yet."

Brittany resisted the urge to reach out and run her fingers along Santana's stomach when the girl stretched and her shirt rode up. One thing she wasn't looking forward to about their trip was spending the whole time cramped with her family in a tiny room.

"You're mean."

Santana leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "You won't think so in about twenty minutes."

Brittany followed her out the door and stood on her wobbly legs for the first time in almost five hours. They had stopped at a motel in Tennessee around seven the night before to sleep and drove the last couple hundred miles so they could make the boarding time at nine in the morning. Since six, Brittany and Santana had played a mix of cards, I-Spy, and the car-color game since she couldn't go back to sleep. She could tell how hard it was for Santana to stay awake and rewarded her with a couple muffled kisses.

Tony opened the trunk and he reached in to grab the first of their luggage. "Brittany, get your sister's bag okay?"

Brittany nodded and grabbed one of her bags and her sisters. When she reached for her backpack, Santana quickly grabbed it before she could and slung it around her shoulder. Brittany's eyes drifted away from Santana's smirk to see her mom smiling at the scene and she felt the blush run into her cheeks. After Santana had grabbed the rest of her luggage, Anna closed the trunk and walked hand in hand with Tony and Christine towards the cruise ship.

"Can I know my surprise now?"

"Nope," Santana said.

"Please." Brittany pouted but she could tell Santana was making sure to keep her gaze off her. "Fine."

* * *

><p>Santana took the tickets from Tony and tucked them into her backpack. "Thanks."<p>

"You paid for them, kiddo."

"Well, thanks for letting us share a room."

"I trust you two more than I probably should," he looked over to where Anna, Brittany, and Chrissy were checking in with the attendant.

"She's going to love it."

Tony wrapped his arm around her shoulder and smiled. "If you keep being so sweet to my girl you can have her for life."

"That's the plan," Santana answered honestly. She observed the gleam of happiness in Tony's eye and smirked. "Sap."

"Pot," he pointed at himself, "kettle," he pointed at her with a flamboyant smirk.

Brittany bounced over to her side and smiled. "What's going on?"

"Discussing cookware," Tony said confidently.

"Are you cooking us dinner?"

"No, babe," Santana wrapped her arm around Brittany's waist, "want your surprise now?"

"Of course."

xx

The rooms were right next to each other. Santana scowled, knowing her mom had planned it that way on purpose. It was still a suite and they shared it, but it also meant Anna and Tony had full access to them whenever they wanted. "_Por qué __me torturas_," she silently cursed her mother.

That idea clearly hadn't set in for the girl who was jumping up and down next to her.

"We have our own room! How did you do this? I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Santana shook her head and swiped the key card to their room. It didn't beep. She tried it again and the light beeped green, opening the door. Brittany pushed past her to explore the room.

It was actually decently big for what Santana had paid for it. When her mom told her about the arrangements for the cruise, she begged to get them their own room, under the guise of wanting to let the Pierce's have more room for themselves. Maria agreed as long as Santana paid for it by herself. A worthwhile dip into her savings provided them the seclusion she wanted and her mom booked the room. From the phone conversation she heard, it was a little bit of a struggle for them to get a room at such short notice but Santana's intimidation was an inherited trait solely from her mother.

Brittany was jumping up and down on the bed and pointing out the window.

"San! They have a pool and a Jacuzzi and," she stopped bouncing, "look there's the front of the boat. We can totally recreate that scene from Titanic."

Santana shuffled the last of their bags into the room and plopped onto the bed. She had felt queasy since stepping on the ship and hoped the feeling would subside when she sat down. "Not the one where she's hanging over the edge." The idea of looking over the railing into the water only provoked the nausea in her stomach further.

Brittany giggled. "No, the one where you're gonna stand on the railing and I'll stand behind you and whisper 'close your eyes.'"

"Can't you stand on the railing? I like to keep ma feet on the ground."

Brittany dropped to the bed with her legs crossed and frowned. "You're shorter so I have to stand behind you."

"I'll wear heels."

"Then you'll be uncomfortable."

Santana shut her eyes and groaned. "B…"

Two hands closed on either side of her face and cupped her cheeks. She didn't open her eyes but could feel the close proximity of Brittany's face and anticipated the press of lips to her closed mouth. When she didn't kiss back, Brittany pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel sick," she whined.

"My mom told me about getting seasick and if I felt gross to tell her. Do you want me to tell her for you?"

Santana nodded and internally smacked herself for being so pathetic. First day of vacation and she was already in bed complaining. She could have at least waited till day three or four for that.

Brittany kissed her forehead and got up. "One sec."

A few minutes later, Brittany came back rattling a bottle of pills and holding an unopened bottle of water. "Sit up."

Santana pulled herself up into a sitting position and took the handful of pills and downed them with one drink of water. Brittany took the bottle and put it on the side table. Santana reclined against the yellow pillows and spread her arms out across the length of the bed. Brittany crawled up and settled in on Santana's side. They were both in sweatpants and tank-tops, so she smiled at the feel of Brittany's skin gliding against her own when she wrapped an arm behind her neck.

"I can stay here until I feel better. You should go do stuff with your mom and dad." She didn't want Brittany to leave but also didn't want her to be stuck and miserable.

Brittany nuzzled into Santana's neck and put a hand on the thin fabric of her shirt over her stomach. "Not without you."

"Go have fun," Santana insisted again.

Brittany titled her head up and stared at her. Santana knew she would never get tired of gazing into those cloudless, perfect, blue eyes. "Nope."

"Martyr," Santana mumbled, shutting her eyes.

"I don't even know what that means," Brittany said and Santana could hear the smile in her voice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Like I said, not much but it's like a prologue. Actually, if you guys have any suggestions of what in particular you'd like to see them do, leave me a review or something. I have a list of things to chose from but it'd be cool if you wanted to see something in particular. Review either way! :) Thanks for reading!**


	43. i know you so well

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Smaller chapters lately because I've been busy. I was asked to do the newlywed game on the cruise so I did. This chapter actually turned out a lot more emotional than I thought it was going to, at least to me. Sorry if any of you think it's a little heavier, for some reason that's how some of this came out. I'm think two more chapters of this because I might add a little bit of a homecoming after Christmas so I can maybe work in another Faberry moment. Hope you like this one :)  
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**blabbana-Glad you liked it :) I love fluff! I'm updating to the best of my ability, finals next week so after that updates will be more regular lol  
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**genetic- you asked for the newlywed game and I give you, the newlywed game. it's actually the majority of the chapter so I hope you like it :D  
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**HecksYea- Wow, so many compliments haha thank you! I'm thinking of including another faberry part in another installment of the christmas stuff. I might do one more singular Brittana chapter and then one where Faberry is included. Santana is even more perfect in this chapter, just wait haha.  
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**Chrissie32- thank you so much :) I'm happy you like the story. I will read that the next time I get a chance, I promise :) I'll leave you a review when I do. HeYa is a good thing too lol.  
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**Breakdown6-You flatter the hell out of me my friend. Once again, Finn hating via review, you are amazing. I saw the inside of Rachel's bedroom in one of the newer episodes and I guess I always knew it was yellow, cause we've seen it before, but I decided to treat it like something new anyway haha and it wouldn't have been the same if Quinn realized it, I needed Brittany to realize it. C'mon tumble me ideas! I'd love your input as always :)  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"Yeah, well our room has a mini fridge!"<p>

Santana was massaging her temple trying to alleviate a massive headache. Brittany arguing with her little sister was doing nothing to help. The Pierce's suite was two rooms: one with a television and double bed and the other was the main area which also housed a single bed, television, a table, and two chairs. Santana sat in the scratchy flower-patterned chair, twisting and shifting to find a comfortable position she could doze off into while they waited for Tony and Anna to finish getting ready.

They were having their second dinner on the ship—the first day they had all eaten together in the room—in one of the dining halls. Tony told them to save their fanciest clothes for the captain's dinner the next week, so Santana put on jean cut-offs and a pink t-shirt Brittany had bought her the day before with the cruise line's logo on the front. Her hair was down and straightened, with a matching pink headband to finish it off. Brittany had on an aqua dress that cut off around mid-thigh and her hair was pulled back in a messy bun.

"We have two rooms," Chrissy yelled back.

Brittany snorted. "You can't even go in their room."

"Doesn't mean it's not there."

Santana had to hold back laughter at the two of them. Anna wasn't lying when she said Christine grew into a little smart-ass. But she respected it and hoped a little of it was her influence.

"Alright, quit." Tony walked out of the bedroom in khaki shorts and a navy polo leading Anna who was in brown capri's and a white t-shirt.

Santana hung her head back on the chair and gazed at the ceiling. _'Our room's totally better.'_

Tony snapped his fingers over her face. "Coming, lazy?"

She glared up at him. "I just put my head back."

"You've been in that chair the whole time."

"What did you want me to do? Clean?"

Tony looked around the suite. "Maybe. Although, I'm scared of the derogatory implications of saying that to you." When he turned back she shook her head at the smirk on his face.

"This is going to be a long trip."

Brittany walked over and grabbed her arm, pulling her up. They followed her parents out of the room and onto the main deck where swarms of people crowded various railings and tables. Santana and Brittany pointed out a few of the chubbier passengers and their fanny packs, chuckling to themselves. Santana had been on a couple cruises in her life. The earliest one she remembered, her mom and dad spent most of the time partying with their friends and not really paying her much attention. She snuck out a lot and explored various parts of the ship, including the places small children apparently weren't supposed to explore. When the security—if that's even what you call it on a ship—brought her back to the room, her mom scolded her and then wrapped her in the tightest hug she had ever received from the woman. Needless to say, she didn't go wandering again. She hoped with Brittany by her side, she wouldn't feel the need to wander off anyway.

Santana slipped her hand down the inside of Brittany left forearm and linked their hands together. Brittany glanced down, and with a confused expression, let go. Santana's stomach dropped a little until Brittany wrapped their pinkies together. However, when Brittany looked up at her, the expression wasn't gone. Understanding what was going through her head almost instantly, Santana tugged her finger away and reclaimed Brittany's whole hand. She challenged her with a raised eyebrow to try it again.

'_We're holding hands,'_ Santana tried to force into Brittany's mind.

A second passed with Brittany still looking at her as they walked, and she tried to divide attention between making sure they didn't crash into anyone and convincing her that it was okay for them to hold hands. She wasn't scared of publicity anymore; especially where no one knew who they were.

"It's fine," she whispered.

Brittany consented with a nod and smile which Santana returned. She would've been hurt that Brittany was so cautious if she didn't realize it was for her; but that ultimately made it painful anyway. Her mind instantly tried to think of ways to prove they didn't have to hide anymore. She would've done anything at that point.

Double doors opened up into the dining hall that Santana saw served dual purpose as a recreation area as well. The opposite end of the kitchen had a large stage with what looked like a karaoke machine and a large white screen similar to the ones in the classrooms at McKinley. She cursed whatever mental flaw made her picture Rachel Berry when she saw the karaoke machine and chalked it up to drunk memories and the duet of _Hey Mickey_ she was forced into performing at the glee party the year before.

"_Santana, it's a-about, um,"_ _Rachel had a hand on either of her shoulders to steady herself, "um, its, cheerleaders. You're a cheerleaders, right?"_

"_I can't believe you would bring that up," she remembered shouting into Rachel's face, "fucking insensitive hobbit." Quinn's arm stopped her from connecting with a slap. She wasn't too confident her drunken coordination would have even allowed her that pleasure. _

"_Santa, I know you—," Rachel burst out in giggles. "I called you Santa! You have to give me a Christmas wish."_

"_You're Jewish, Rach," Quinn asserted. _

_Rachel's hand covered Quinn's mouth. "Quinn, shh, I'm getting a wish." Rachel turned back to her. "I want, um, singing this song with me."_

_Santana wiped at her blurry tears. "I'm not singing with you, Berry. You hurt my feelings."_

"_Songs makes everything better," Rachel insisted, "trust me. I know these things." Not five minutes later they were both jumping around the small stage which Rachel mimicking Santana's improvised cheer routine, sloppily tripping over each other.  
><em>

She leaned over to Brittany. "Is it weird that makes me think of Berry?"

Brittany followed her finger over to the machine. "No. I'm totally gonna tell Rach you thought of her on vacation though."

Her eyes shifted into a plea. "Don't do that." She wrapped her fingers around Brittany's tiny wrist. "Seriously."

"Wow," the tone in her voice caught Santana off guard, "it's only been a day and you already miss your best friend." She glared at Brittany.

xx

They followed Anna and Tony to a large table in the middle of the room where they were seated by a stocky teenager. He didn't look old enough to have a job and his voice cracked when he asked for their drink orders. Everyone asked for waters except Tony, who asked for a beer, and Chrissy, who asked for juice.

Sitting with her palm cupping her jaw, Santana watched Brittany interact with her family. Tony had gotten held up at work the night of Sectionals so Brittany was giving a play-by-play of the night, sadly including the loss and embarrassingly mentioning how Santana cried for an hour afterwards. She flicked Brittany's leg and the girl stuck her tongue out.

After everyone placed their orders, a group of four people—two guys and two girls, each respectively attached at the hip to their partners—with bright smiles walked up to the edge of their table and asked if there was room for them to join. Anna and Tony conceded with a welcoming gesture and moved their chairs around to accommodate the additions to the circular table.

"Thanks," oldest man said, "I'm Charlie. This is my wife, Margolis, my son, Jeremy, and his wife Tammy." Tammy and Jeremy couldn't have been older than twenty five and given the shiny wedding bands on their fingers, newly married. Charlie and Margolis were considerably older but nonetheless as cheerful. There was a radiating peacefulness emanating from them. Normally irritated by strangers, Santana felt at ease in their presence.

As her eyes drifted from her lock on their intertwined fingers, she found Brittany's gaze breaking from the same target. Her cheeks burned a tiny bit red and Brittany was staring at her lips. Santana leaned in and kissed her, lingering a little longer than appropriate given their company. Combined "ahhs" forced her head away but not her attention. They stared at each other as the waiter brought their dinner out and Brittany quickly scooted her chair closer to Santana's. Their bare legs were brushing under the table and she felt the palm of Brittany's right hand gently resting on her thigh. She smiled and pecked Brittany on the cheek.

Santana embraced the quiet at their table and scanned the room as she ate, checking out other tables and the far end of the room where she had seen the stage. Earlier abandoned, it held two women and a man in a suit, shuffling through cards and pointing at a laptop. As the two women fixed a banner across that corner of the room, Santana squinted to make out what it read. With a smirk on her face, Santana stood up, attracting weird looks from everyone at the table.

"Excuse me a second?"

Everyone nodded and she left for the other side of the room, happy that plotting came just as easily for improving her own life as it did for tearing other's down.

Xx

To say Santana had been acting weird since the Hadens had showed up would have been an understatement. First, Brittany caught her smiling—which was normal for anyone who wasn't Santana—at the strangers from the instant she caught sight of them. Then, she was rushing off in the middle of dinner to go argue with people she didn't even know at the other side of the room until they were accepting whatever she had to tell them. And last, she came over and had a whispered conversation with Margolis and Tammy, who both smiled across the table at her while agreeing to something for Santana. They both had an odd closed fists handshake with Santana, who returned to her seat immediately afterward.

"Are you okay," Brittany asked. Santana grinned, but that didn't always have the best implications. She used to grin that way when she and Quinn perfectly synchronized slushies on the glee kids sophomore year.

Santana touched her hands together and then pushed her left over into Brittany's lap where her hands sad idly. Brittany felt a tiny weight, barely enough to notice there was anything at all, fall into her palm. "I'm perfect, Britts. How are you?"

"Good," she said awkwardly. Santana nodded and then turned away to take a drink of her water. Brittany remembered there was a foreign object in her palm and glanced down to subtly see what it was. When she did, she couldn't control her gasp. "Santana…"

The cockiness on Santana's face fell away and she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Are you, like," Brittany couldn't control her eyes as they watered when she said, "asking me to marry you or something?"

Santana's eyes widened dramatically and she shifted her head back and forth. "Brittany, no. No it's just," she paused, "wait, why do you look like you were about to say yes?"

Brittany tossed the gold wedding band an inch off her palm and then gripped it, coughing to cover her embarrassment. "I-I wasn't, I was just…"

Santana's grin returned and she chuckled. "Oh my god, Brittany. You would have totally said yes if I asked you to marry me right now."

She didn't understand what was so funny about that. "Is that a bad thing?"

Face falling again, Santana backtracked, "No, B, I didn't mean it like that. I just…we're not ready for that kind of crap, right? We're in high school."

'_Crap,'_ Brittany wondered. "I agree, but you might want to not make it sound like the worst possible thing that could happen in the world the next time it comes up." Brittany could see the guilt on Santana's face and felt bad that she had taken away the fun away from whatever she had been up to. "Sorry, I'm sorry." She smiled. "What's the deal with this?" Brittany twirled the ring around her index finger.

Santana was still staring at her with a grim expression. "You know I want to marry you right?" Brittany didn't know what to do so she just nodded. "I do, but someday in the future. And trust me, if I propose to you, which doesn't even have to be the case, you could do it if you want, you won't have to ask me what's happening. Yes is gonna be the first word out of your mouth."

"Cocky," Brittany mumbled with a smirk.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Confident."

Brittany nudged her shoulder with the palm of hand. "Tell me."

"Just slip it on your ring finger and wait."

Brittany quirked her head in confusion. _'She didn't really tell me much,'_ she thought as she placed the shining band around her right ring finger. She quickly realized it was Tammy's that she had been admiring earlier across the table. Before she knew what was happening, Santana was twisting the ring off her finger and chuckling.

"Wrong finger, B." She reached with her free hand and grabbed Brittany's left, pulling it closer between them. As she put the ring on her other hand, Brittany couldn't help but watch the concentrated look in Santana's eyes. She was sure she imagined the shimmering adoration in brown eyes as they performed such a simple action.

When Santana sat back, she picked something up off the material of her shorts and discreetly put in on her own finger. Brittany couldn't help but feel a little disappointed she didn't get to put it on her, but shook her head realizing there was nothing to be disappointed about.

Xx

Anna put her head down on her palm and Brittany was staring wide-eyed at Santana. She was laughing mostly at Mrs. Pierce, but Tony didn't seem too thrilled either. Brittany seemed more fascinated than upset.

"Santana," Anna said, ignoring the man behind her with the microphone, "please tell me this isn't why you left the table earlier."

Santana smirked knowing that the people who teased her on an almost regular basis weren't expecting to get their humiliation in a public setting. "Mrs. P, I would never. This game is clearly random. I mean Brittany and I are going too. Why would I _traumatize_ the four of us?"

Tony dropped the hand he had covering his face and frowned. "It's just cruel." Margolis and Charlie prodded at their sides until they stood.

"Contestants," the man bellowed again, "please follow me." He turned to the crowd. "We have our middle couple, the Pierces!" Raucous laughter and cheers followed Anna and Tony all the way to the stage until they took a seat under the screen displaying a crudely designed _NEWLYWEDS GAME_ logo.

The man in the suit turned back to the table and motioned for Santana and Brittany to stand stood up abruptly and pulled Brittany along with her to the stage. "Our newest newlyweds, the Lopez's." The thrill of hearing her name pluralized in reference to Brittany wore off when she realized it wasn't true. _'Someday,'_ she reminded herself.

"I'm your host, Terry Thompson and this is," he leapt up on the stage and faced the room of families still enjoying their dinner, "The Newlyweds. As you are aware, normally the contestants are all newlywed couples, but we have tweaked the rules to add a challenge to the competition. We have three generations on the stage here today."

Terry moved to his place in front of the podium and read their names off the cards he had in front of them. "Ralph McEwlain and his wife Sheila, our, pardon my language," he grinned, "eldest couple. Anna and Anthony Pierce, the blonde duo of mid age. And our actual newlyweds," his eyebrows rose as he read, "at the fresh age of eighteen, Santana and Brittany Lopez."

With a smirk, Ralph said, "So there is an in-house competition going on."

"Newlyweds?" Tony's head snapped to his left at them. "Dear lord please tell me there isn't a chapel on this ship," he whispered to Santana.

She winked at him. Brittany was still entranced by their host and Santana had a feeling it had to do with hearing _Lopez_ at the end of her name considering the delighted smile and their earlier conversation.

"Good, but you're going down," his voice rose so it was detectable on the microphones at the edge of the platform. A few people in the audience cheered again.

Terry walked across the stage and handed all of them large white boards with black erasable markers. He was surprised when Brittany asked him if he had any other colors and that earned her a laugh from the crowd. She blushed even as he fished a green one out of his pocket and handed it to her.

After taking his place at the podium again, Terry picked up a remote and clicked a button to move the slideshow displaying on the big screen above forward so everyone could read the rules as he explained them. Santana rolled her eyes. If anyone didn't know how this game worked they should be beat for being uncultured beyond salvation. She actually thought he was explaining the rules a little more formally for her and Brittany's benefit, but that was unnecessary because they had seen reruns of the show late at night when they were in middle school.

"Alright, it's a basic point system. Three rounds with five questions each, each questions worth one point. At the end the couple with the most points wins. Good luck."

Anna and Tony high-fived with confidence and Santana booed at them. Brittany smacked her arm which earned another round of laughter from the crowd. Santana scowled even further when Tony made a whipped-motion at her. It faded quickly when Anna smacked his knee, making him return his attention back to the game. "You were saying," she whispered to Tony, who scratched his eye socket with his middle finger, subtly flicking her off.

"Round one," Terry said. "Easy questions to start out. The first round is for the, uh, women." Looking down at their end of the stage, he pointed at Brittany, "Let's go with you for this one." Santana and Brittany laughed towards each other and nodded their heads.

Terry pulled a card from the wooden podium, flicked the screen above their heads forward, and read it loudly, "What is your spouse's favorite food?"

'_Seriously,'_ Santana laughed internally. She scribbled down her answer on the white board and held it close to her chest so Brittany couldn't see. Not like her girl didn't know the answer.

She watched the other two pairs confidentially write on their boards and realized it probably just a throw away round to build confidence. Sheila had correctly guessed Ralph's favorite meal of pot roast and Brittany had correctly, and entirely unsurprisingly, named breadsticks as Santana's favorite food. But to their surprise, Anna hadn't been exactly sure what Tony's favorite food was and guessed pizza, only for him to turn his board around and reveal tacos as his answer. She grimly smiled at him and shrugged her shoulder. Tony hung his head in defeat and groaned, sensing it was going to be a lot tougher game than he expected.

Xx

Ralph and Sheila finished the first two rounds with ten points, Santana and Brittany were back one with nine, and Anna and Tony struggled behind with six. Brittany thought the game was so simple. She didn't forget anything when it came to Santana; she had easily listed off that the first thing Santana did in the morning was go back to sleep, her favorite color was red, her most repeated phrase was 'no me gusta', and her most used curse word was definitely 'fuck.' Just like Santana had remembered that _her_ favorite animals were cats, she was the dominating person in the bedroom (a question that had Tony, Anna, and Santana blushing in unison), and that her biggest dream was to dance professionally.

The one question they had incorrectly answered about each other was about who would end up with the most money in a game of Jeopardy. Brittany had, obviously to her, answered Santana, but to her surprise Santana had answered with her name. When she went to scold Santana for the wrong answer, Santana was already reprimanding her.

"_You're smarter than me about random facts, Brittany, c'mon you know that,' Santana had insisted under her breath._

"_You're smarter at everything else though," she replied._

_Santana had grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You have to stop thinking that, B. If I'm so smart than I'm obviously right about that."_

She thought it was kind of funny that they argued about a question in which they complimented each other but her parents were playfully bickering over continuous wrong answers about each other's habits. If they weren't so close to winning, she might've actually felt bad.

"Final round," the balding gentleman announced to the audience, "but we're going to switch something up in the rules. Pick one of the two of you and that person will be given five questions with only one minute to answer each once."

She saw the cute old couple at the end offer each other the position until they settled on the woman, Sheila. Her mom and dad had their arms crossed and Anna reluctantly agreed to be their writer. Brittany finally glanced at Santana and raised her shoulders in question.

"You or me, babe?"

"I think you should do it," Brittany said, "I trust you to win it for us."

"Hell yeah I will." She leaned over and pecked Brittany's cheek. "We have this in the bag. Maybe one of those geezers on the end will stroke out and we'll have a solid win."

"Santana," Brittany exclaimed.

"What," Santana teased, "I want to win."

"Cocky."

She smirked. "This time, yes."

"Ready, everyone?" Santana, Anna, and Sheila all nodded that they were ready. "Alright, here are your questions."

Xx

Santana turned to the screen and saw the timer start in the top corner. She felt a little buzz of excitement in her limbs and smiled, realizing two years ago she would be in the crowd scowling at a display of idiots on stage. Two years ago she would have been sneaking her finger under the table to graze Brittany's thigh for just a second of contact and then pretending for the next month that it never happened. Two years she would have died if someone had suggested she pretend being Brittany's wife in front of hundreds of people for the purpose of proving that she wasn't ashamed.

Reading the questions and answering just as quickly, Santana realized that while she hated the person she had once been, without that person, she wouldn't have had experienced all of the things she wrote down on the whiteboard. Brittany loved that person from the beginning, so she couldn't have been so bad. Capping her marker before either of her competitors, Santana knew she was a winner. Regardless of their score.

Xx

Sheila had missed two of her questions. Anna had missed none. That meant Santana would have only had to answer four of the five questions right to win. Seeing the content smile on her girlfriend's face, Brittany knew she had nothing to worry about.

"Alright, Santana," Terry said, "the first question. When did you and Brittany share your first kiss?"

Without hesitation, Santana responded, "February fourteenth, two-thousand-four."

When Terry looked at Brittany, she nodded eagerly.

_"You're welcome San. And I mean it, you are my valentine." Brittany arched forward and placed a small peck to Santana's lips._

"Second question, where was your first date?"

"The Boathouse in Central Park."

Again, Brittany nodded her consent.

_"Do you see where we are?"_

_"New York?" _

_"More specific." _

_"In a park?" _

_"Warmer," she smiled and pressed the knuckle of her middle finger against the curve of Brittany's pointer finger._

_"Help me?" _

_"We're on a date."_

"You've tied your in-laws, Santana. Let's see if you can keep it up and beat them." Tony challenged her silently. "Third question, what is your spouse's all-time favorite movie?"

Santana smiled at Brittany. "Finding Nemo."

Covering her reddening face, Brittany said, "Correct."

_Santana chuckled as the __Finding Nemo __title screen played._

_"Ice cream and Disney movies. Seriously can we get more cliché?"_

"You've beaten Brittany's parents, and let's see if you can beat Sheila and Ralph. For the win, Santana, what habit of yours irritates Brittany the most?"

With a distant smile, Santana answered, "Lying."

Brittany grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. She nodded sadly, trying to ignore the numerous moments Santana could be playing back in her mind.

_Her voice was strained, "I can't tell if you're trying to lie to me, or to yourself." Santana's eyes shot up._

_"I'm not…what? I'm not lying," Santana argued._

"Well," Terry bellowed, "congratulations Santana and Brittany Lopez for winning the Newlywed game!" Thunderous applause roared through the large room and Brittany's devoted attention to Santana's still sad expression was disconnected at the emotional atmosphere of the room. As close as they were, her parents recognized the tension between them and the closest crowd-members seem to pick up it as well as they wiped at glassy eyes. It was like everyone was caught up in a moment for and about them and Brittany chose to believe they were impressed by the true knowledge and depth she and Santana had for each other. Whether that was true or not, she didn't know, but Santana tugging her upwards and toward the prize basket Terry was offering them, brought her out of her thoughts. She looked back long enough to see Santana's last answer on the board.

'_When she thought I was sleeping.'_

Brittany remembered the question and smiled. _'When was the first time she admitted she loved you?'_

_Brittany watched Santana's breathing slow and assumed she fell asleep. She bent forward and kissed Santana's forehead. In a quiet voice she whispered, "I love you Santana." Brittany shut her eyes and matched Santana's breathing, breath for breath._

* * *

><p>"Brittany."<p>

Chrissy was lying between her and Brittany in the middle of their bed. They had shopped a little after dinner and came back to the room to relax. Both in the t-shirts they had won and sweatpants, they cuddled on the bed until they were interrupted by Brittany's little sister who insisted on them watching a movie with her.

Santana's eyes were shut and she was focused on the hand running fingers through her bangs delicately. As she spoke, Brittany's hand never faltered.

"Yeah?"

"I'm allowed to like boys right?"

Santana kept her eyes shut, but laughed anyways. She was cut off by a swift punch in her stomach from a hand that was tiny enough to have to be Chrissy. Given how comfortable she was, Santana let it go.

"Of course you're allowed to like boys," Brittany said, "why wouldn't you be?"

Santana felt Chrissy fidget on the bed. "You like girls, and I heard you guys saying mommy like girls once. I thought maybe I wasn't supposed to."

That time, Santana's eyes did shoot open and she saw that Brittany was already staring at her, hand stilled in her hair.

"Where did you hear that?"

"The other morning," Brittany's sister said, "I snuck into the dining room to listen."

"You shouldn't listen to other people's conversations," Santana said defensively.

Brittany's hand moved again. "Chris, you can like whoever you want. If you meet a boy and you think he's super cute and doesn't have cooties, that's fine. And if you meet a girl who's cute and pushes you on the swing, that's totally fine too. You don't _have_ to like one specifically."

"I like boys," Chrissy said, "one boy actually. His name is Jason and he shares his cookies with me."

Under her breath, Santana mumbled, "That better be metaphorically." Brittany scratched her scalp a little harder in warning. "Sorry."

"He sounds great," Brittany said, "you'll have to show me a picture when we get home."

Chrissy yawned and nodded between them. "I will. But I think I'm gonna go to bed now. Will you walk me to my room?"

Santana sat up. "I got this." She leapt off the bed and took Brittany's sister by the hand and led her through their room and out into the hallway. At the Pierce's door, Chrissy turned to Santana before she could knock. "What," she asked the little girl.

"Thanks for making Britty happy again," Chrissy said, "she was so sad last year."

Santana smiled darkly. "That was kind of my fault, kiddo." As much as she hated to admit it, it was the truth.

But Chrissy just shook her head. "No, it was Artie. Mommy even said she was so sad with Artie because all she could think about was you."

Santana felt her eyes tear up and she pulled Chrissy into a hug. "I'll make her happy as long as she wants me to."

"Good, because when she's sad she won't take me to the park or for ice cream or anything." Chrissy pulled out of the hug and knocked on the door.

Tony answered the door and smiled at the two of them through hazy eyes. He waved to Santana and she returned it as the door closed. She went back into her own room and found a Brittany-sized lump under the covers. Without another thought, she ran towards the bed and jumped on top of the bump and wrapped her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

"Hello, Mrs. Lopez," she joked, kissing Brittany's neck.

Brittany's lips curled into a smile and she picked up the edge of the blanket for Santana to get under. Brittany put an arm around Santana's waist and pulled them together, threading one of her legs between Santana's so they were tangled together.

"I like that," she mumbled sleepily.

"Me too."

"Someday," Brittany said.

"Someday," Santana repeated, kissing Brittany on the nose.

Brittany opened her eyes and stared at her. "I was so proud of us today."

"_Please_, like there's something I don't know about you."

She didn't like the look on Brittany's face that seemed like she took that as a challenge. Unfortunately, she did.

"I used to have a crush on Quinn. Did you know that?"

Santana's mouth fell open and she stared blankly. _'Quinn.'_ She said it out loud, "Quinn?"

Brittany nodded, smirking. "She's hot."

"B!"

"Sorry, San, it's the truth."

"When?" _'When could that have possibly happened?'_

"Freshman year."

"Ew, no, I didn't want to actually know. That's something I could have gone my whole life without knowing." She retched; thinking as Quinn as anything other than a friend and sometimes enemy was completely revolting.

"I wouldn't have ever done anything about it," Brittany said.

"That's because Quinn was so hung up on Rachel and repressed to give anyone a speck of attention." The words were a little more cutting than she intended and she hoped Brittany didn't take offense to them.

"Actually she kissed me, once."

"Brittany! What the fuck?"

Brittany giggled and buried her face into Santana's chest. "See, there are things about me you don't know."

"Things I obviously am glad to not know."

Brittany kissed the base of her throat and worked her way up with slow kisses to Santana's mouth. "You're a much better kisser."

"Tell me something I don— wait, on second thought, don't."

Brittany snuggled further into Santana and sighed. "I love you, so much."

"Yeah, yeah, just don't kiss Quinn anymore." Brittany jabbed her side. "Ow, I'm kidding. I love you too." She kissed the top of Brittany's head and mumbled, "Seriously, don't kiss Quinn again."

"Go to bed, Santana."

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><p><strong>aN: yeah two more chapters :) Hope you liked it genetic! **


	44. the thoughts by your pillow

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Hiya! Out of school so I'm going to be working on this more and more. I want to apologize in advance for the massive amount of cheesiness in this chapter, because I was having a moment I guess and couldn't stop it from coming out. Final of the vacation and a tiny homecoming with Quinn and Rachel. I wrote text messages for the first time in forever and couldn't remember if I did them the same way. Don't worry I checked. Hope you like it :)  
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**Your Kaleidoscope Girl-Hopefully you get the same fuzzy feelings from this chapter and don't puke from the over the top feelings ;)  
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**TheKittyPaw-Haha thank you! I thought it was a cool way to learn a little about them.  
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**HecksYea-It's not hard to have better character development than the show but thank you haha. Santana will have something to say to Quinn in a future chapter, I assure you that. I like adorable Santana. I like writing the contrast between when she's a bitch to everyone else and then the sweetest person to Brittany. Thanks for the review!  
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**Tagme07-Your review made me laugh, soap opera announcer lol just a tiny bump in the road for the Pierce's, full recovery. Chrissy has shared ice cream with Jason in a previous chapter, so I'm assuming she will indeed share her actual cookies. Finn will never be smarter than a goldfish but no Quinn/Rachel hints! You never know, Quinn could end up with Sam again ;)  
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**Breakdown6-Just a tiny ounce of wedding feelings to rile people up haha. Brittana tries not to lie anymore, that's what counts haha. yeah I didn't originally include the final question, but I thought, hey that might be something adorable haha. I'm glad you liked the flashbacks though cause I wasn't sure how they would work. Santana doesn't have much luck with Dads. I mean Tony is just teasing her but Leroy actually hates her. Damn, I need Santana to go back to the Berry's soon :) Thanks for the review bud!  
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**genetic-Santana will confront Quinn and I think I may have a fun way for some payback haha. Thanks for the Newlyweds idea, that was actually really fun to write and I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks!  
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**TeamBrittana4Ever & kaligleekster-Not over for a while guys! we still have the rest of the season to go through! Thanks fore the reviews :)  
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**blueskkies-Haha I have developed some kind of weird side relationship between Quinn and Brittany in my head. The interact a little too intimately sometimes haha. I may need Santana to lay down some laws at some point. Thanks :)  
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**MusicFlowsWithin-Ha glad it made you smile! Hopefully this chapter can elicit the same response. Have fun and thanks :)  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>Brittany had been excited for the Captain's dinner all week. Not because she had any interest—or knowledge—of what that actually was, but because it was also Christmas Day. The previous night, after almost getting caught by her mom's inability to knock, her family and Santana gathered in the other room and exchanged tiny presents. Her mom and dad promised to have more for them when they got home since they didn't want to lug a bunch of presents onto the ship, but Chrissy was more disappointed than Brittany. They already gave her the best present by letting Santana come with them.<p>

She was excited for Christmas Day though, because Santana had promised to keep up with their yearly tradition of exchanging one gift. Only they had decided that it had to be something they found in one of the shops on the cruise. Santana proposed each of them going off on their own to pick each other the perfect present and considering Santana hadn't had much alone time on the trip so far, her absence from their room was easily explained when Brittany came back from the shower. But that didn't stop her from leaving a note on Brittany's pillow.

_Babe,_

_Went to get your present. Your parents told me they were going to the casino for a little bit and to watch your sister. Don't freak out, I totally waited until I heard the shower go off to leave her. I locked her in the room anyway. I'll leave the key on the table. Have fun until I get back!_

_Your sexy, amazing (non child-neglecting) girlfriend,_

_S_

Brittany laughed and dropped the note back on the bed. She grabbed her brush and the key from the coffee table on her way out of the room. She wasn't too surprised to find Chrissy still sleeping on her bed in the main room and hugging a pillow to her chest. It made her giggle because it reminded her of how Santana used to sleep before she was comfortable enough to snuggle with her. She figured Santana had just substituted the pillow for what she really wanted to hold. The thought made her cheeks warm.

She looked at the clock and made a mental note to wake her sister up soon so she would have time to get ready for dinner. She and Santana had laid out their dresses earlier in the day before they all went swimming, so all she had to do was her hair. She didn't even have to worry about getting Santana's present. When they went to the port in the Bahamas, she made her mom distract Santana with Chrissy and a candy-store long enough so she could sneak away into a store she found called The Things Necessary Gift Shop. Brittany hoped Santana didn't feel bad she had to shop in the gift stores on the actual ship, while Brittany had gotten to buy her a personalized gift, but Santana always liked to make it a competition and she hoped with her advantage, she might actually win that year.

After twenty minutes, Brittany's hair was straightened and her sister was in the shower. She reclined on the couch in her parent's bedroom and flipped through the television channels. She heard a loud knocking on the door in the next room and scrambled towards the noise. The peephole was a little lower than her full height so she had to crouch down to look out. When she saw who it was, she opened the door immediately.

"Shopping go good," she asked with a smirk. Santana's hands were empty and they wrapped around her hips.

"Yes it did." Santana pushed her back into the room and kicked the door closed with her foot. Her hair was down in curls and Brittany twirled a finger in one of them, trying to annoy her. Every time she would twisted the hair tight, Santana would snap her head away and smirk.

"What'd you get me?"

Santana rose up on the tips of her flip-flops and kissed her. Brittany thought her lips tasted like a rich chocolate and wondered when Santana had the time to eat something. _'Maybe she got me chocolate!' _Santana took in a sharp breath through her nose and pulled back. "A present."

"What kind of present?"

"You ask me every year, and every year what do I tell you?"

Brittany tipped her head away and rolled her eyes. "_Not a chance._"

"_That's right_," Santana sing-songed, "you just have to wait," she kissed Brittany's cheek, "and see."

Letting her arms fall to the sides, Brittany narrowed her eyes. "I'm beating you this year."

"_Beating me?_ What ever do you mean?" Brittany saw her contained smirk and tugged out of her reach back onto the couch. There was rarely a time when she didn't find Santana's smirk alluring, but when it was teasing her and paired with the sultry husk of her voice, Brittany knew she had to step away to compose herself. Given the past week and a half of her sister barging in their room, her mom's sudden fascination with how a Jacuzzi worked only when they were in it, or her dad diving in between them in the pool, she knew moments between them were often interrupted awkwardly. They were in between her sister's half-over shower and her parent's unspecified casino timeframe. Brittany didn't want to take the chance.

Santana dropped beside her on the couch and twisted her body until her head was in Brittany's lap. "What's wrong?"

"It's gonna sound dumb."

Reaching up, Santana touched her cheek with the tips of her fingers and ran them soothingly across her cheek. "No it won't."

Brittany grabbed her wrist. _'Really not helping,'_ she thought as she replaced Santana's hand on the couch. "Yeah huh."

Santana laughed. "Nuh uh. Just tell me."

She looked around the room, making sure there was no activity that would hear her. The shower was still on and the door was locked firmly in place. As far as she could tell, there weren't any footsteps outside the suite.

"We've been on this dumb ship for a little over a week and we haven't had more than twenty minutes of alone time. Unless we were sleeping, which doesn't even count cause we can't be together." She watched Santana's cheeks flush just like her own and giggled, running the cool pad of her thumb over the hot skin. "Told you it was dumb."

Santana shook her head from side to side against her thigh and then reached up to wrap a hand around her neck. With as much force as the awkward position could have afforded her, Santana pulled her down and kissed her hard on the lips. She unwillingly sighed and kissed back, letting her mouth fall open and Santana's tongue dragged from her bottom lip into her mouth and then delicately moved against Brittany's. Santana inched backwards for a breath and then kissed the corner of her mouth, creating a smile, in her trail of kisses that ended under Brittany's chin with a small peck.

"That's not exactly true," Santana whispered against her neck. "Second night?" She kissed Brittany's jaw where it met at the joint and sucked on the skin there.

Brittany shivered at the memory of their second night in the hot tub after making sure no one was still awake. "Doesn't count," she mumbled.

Santana's head snapped back and she raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Brittany leaned down and kissed her forehead. She meant to keep it innocent but the proximity pulled her back down to Santana's parted lips for another round of kisses. "It was ten minutes and I didn't even get to do anything to you," she muttered across the tiny space between them.

Santana's eyebrow rose further with a particular gleam in her dark irises. "If you weren't so worried about me drowning it could have lasted a lot longer than that."

Brittany grinned and shook her head. "Perv."

"Are you complaining?"

"A little."

Santana sat up and whirled around so she was sitting right next to her with both knees pressed into Brittany's thigh. Her hands came up and cupped either side of her face, pulling her head so they were looking at each other. "What about the shower? That was one sided and _wholly_ appreciated."

Brittany shrugged. "It's not what I mean."

"We were together though."

"But it's just sex."

Santana sat back on her heels. "I'm not following. I thought that's what you were upset about?"

"No," Brittany breathed, "we used to, like, don't you remember when we were like thirteen and we'd sneak away for an hour at Quinn or Puck's parties and like, makeout in the closet until people started to look for us. And it was so special because we had to hide and make so much out of a few kisses. And you'd smile like a goof for the rest of the night because you knew all I wanted was to be back in that room with you. But we didn't always do stuff, sometimes we just kind of talked about everything, and we still hid because it felt so important to be a secret, to be un-, un-, I can't think of a word…"

"Untouchable," Santana filled in. Brittany knew she'd know it. "Of course, B. But we're not a secret anymore. When we're alone, people know what we're doing."

"That's my point!" she exclaimed. "Anytime we're alone, I feel like we have to be attached at the lips because we don't have anything else to do. The rest of our lives are out in the open now."

Santana looked like she was focusing on a really hard math problem. Or like Brittany was focusing on a really hard math problem and Santana was trying to find a way to explain it easier.

"So," Santana started uneasily, "you miss how we used to be a secret?"

"I miss when it was just me and my best friend, eating cookies and making fun of people. Or that we had days where we didn't touch each other but just watched movies, because we knew the rest of it didn't matter as much."

"You miss our friendship," Santana said resolutely.

"Don't you? Don't you miss asking me to come over instead of just assuming I'll show up? Or the surprise you felt when I'd let you sleep over?" She took Santana's hands and squeezed them. "I don't want being girlfriends to erase being friends. Sometimes I just want to hang out with you."

"You're my best friend," Santana said, "maybe sometimes it's hard to feel like friends anymore because our lives are so involved with each other, but you still surprise me with all that stuff. I'm surprised when you let me spend my entire day with you because I don't feel like I deserve it. I do remember sneaking off into closets with you, and I remember how perfect it was because when we weren't macking hardcore," Brittany giggled, "you filled every minute, talking."

Brittany's smile fell but Santana tapped her cheek comfortingly.

"No not in a bad way, Britt. I loved when you talked because you told me everything. And as much as I loved you, I knew that you'd always be in my life because you made me feel so important. Our relationship is so good because we are such good friends. Maybe I'm too selfish and always want to touch on you because I feel like I've wasted so much time with us, but I've never stopped loving that girl who debated her love for cats and ducks in Mrs. Fabray's bed and felt guilty when she decided cats were her new favorite."

Brittany could have cried but she instead decided to kiss Santana again, whining when she still didn't feel close enough. Her fingers dug into Santana's jean shorts at the seams and she only let go when a voice startled them.

"Just so the two of you are aware, parts of that speech are going in my toast at your wedding," Tony mumbled from the edge of the room where he and Anna were standing, her mom discretely wiping away a tear. "Particularly the cats and ducks part. Hopefully Judy is in attendance."

"Oh dear god," Santana groaned and dropped her head to Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany wrapped an arm around her waist and did the same thing. She thought they were done with the embarrassment but another voice sounded off from the opposite side of the couch.

"I'm done eavesdropping," Chrissy said, "for I think the rest of my life." She stuck her tongue out and Santana groaned again. "Santana's worse than Dad on their anniversary."

Her head shot up. "Take it back you little—"

Brittany thumped her leg and laughed. "Thanks, San."

Low enough that she was sure no one in the room could hear her, Santana told her, "I'll make it all up to you tonight. I promise." Brittany smiled, not knowing what Santana was planning, but happy she knew it would be surprising.

* * *

><p>Santana didn't think she'd ever seen such a perfect night sky. She'd taken pictures from the window in their room almost every evening, but she was sure none were as beautiful. It wasn't technically still Christmas, but she and Brittany wanted to make sure they would be alone on the deck. <em>She<em> wanted to make sure more though, so they waited until three to leave the room and found a secluded back staircase. Brittany kept the tiny present in her hand always on the other side of her body. It was smart considering it wasn't really past Santana to steal it and open the box early. She had done the same thing with her gift bag knowing Brittany had a hard time controlling herself.

That's why it was such a tough decision to leave her girlfriend alone with both presents while she searched for an open refreshment stand. In the ten minutes she'd been looking, she was sure when she got back the bag would be empty, but allowed her miniscule amount of hope to suppress the anxiety. It wouldn't be _that_ big of a deal, but she really wanted to be there when Brittany saw what she found. She was totally going to win.

Turning around a corner, she saw the final drink stand closing. With the window half-shut, she sprinted towards it, yelling, "Wait! Hang on!"

A young girl, probably only a little older than her, with dark brown hair poked her head out and smiled. "Can I help you?"

Santana struggled to catch her breath. _'Damn, I really need to work out more.'_ "Do you," she cleared her throat, "do you have hot chocolate?"

The girl, who Santana read on her nametag's name was Mandy, laughed. Santana tilted her head to the side and scowled. She really didn't need some bitch to be giving her a problem while Brittany was waiting. "You realize it's like, eighty degrees out here, right?"

"So?"

"You drink hot chocolate to be warm," Mandy said condescendingly like Santana didn't understand her the first time.

"I'm aware. Do you have it or not?"

"I do," Mandy nodded, "how much is it worth to you?"

"Are you kidding me right now? Isn't this your job?" She was about ten seconds away from smacking the girl and making the drinks herself.

Looking at the clock, Mandy shrugged. "Actually, my job ended five minutes ago, but seeing as you're asking so nicely, I could make an exception."

"How much smartass?"

Mandy turned around and rifled with a machine behind her that dispensed coffee, cappuccinos, and hot chocolate from what Santana could see. So the girl _was_ making it hard for her on purpose. It only made her want to hit Mandy more. When she turned around with two cups, Santana tried to remember if she had asked for more than one.

"Free if you want some company."

Santana's mouth fell open. _'Really,'_ that was the girl's idea of flirting? She couldn't imagine how well berating her customers could have actually worked.

"First of all," Santana took both cups and Mandy frowned, "you needs a new strategy, because this cocky bullshit, isn't attractive. Second, I have a girlfriend who is a million times prettier than you could _ever_ hope to be. And third, who just comes on to some random girl? What if I were straight?"

"Judging by the way I saw your tongue down that pretty blonde's throat at dinner earlier, I'd say you're far from straight."

Santana couldn't have stopped herself from slapping the girl if she wanted to. Mandy held a hand to her cheek and her eyes were watering heavily. Santana didn't even feel an ounce of remorse.

"You're gonna come on to me when you know I have a girlfriend. No està bien, puta. And the drinks are complimentary, on account the server was a total bitch." She walked away, drinks in hand, and stormed around corners back to find Brittany. She needed to see her to get the bad taste of that slut out of her mouth. Sometimes, Santana knew she wasn't the greatest person, but people like Mandy reminded her of how far she'd come in just a year. Last year she was stealing Sam away from Quinn to make a point, but _that_ Santana was a different, bitter person. Maybe Brittany just made the difference, but she hoped some of it was her own doing.

"Hiya," Brittany greeted her cheerfully from the top step. Santana saw the bag was in a different place from before she left and chuckled.

"Did you peek?"

"I didn't, I promise." Brittany held up her pinkie and Santana grabbed it with her own as she sat down.

"Can't break a pinkie promise," Santana warned, her head tipped toward Brittany accusingly.

"I didn't! I swear."

Santana leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I believe you. Here, hot cocoa, fresh from a girl who tried to pick me up."

Brittany didn't take the cup and glared, but Santana knew it wasn't directed at her. "What?"

"Did you know its eighty degrees out here?"

"Santana…"

She laughed and pushed the cup into Brittany's empty hand. "The closest she got to me was a slap across the face."

Brittany shook her head. "That's not nice, but I totally approve the violence this time."

"Trust me, she deserved it." Santana caught Brittany staring at her chest, where her tanktop hung open the tiniest bit. "Britt?"

"I need to buy you a sweater. That's what you need for Christmas, so girls stop staring at you."

Santana burst out laughing, almost spitting hot chocolate across her legs. Brittany giggled along and took a drink out of her own cup. "Although, then you can't stare at me."

"I get to see you naked though so, that's fine with me. I think I'll ask Rachel to borrow one of her old animal sweaters when we get home."

Santana stopped laughing immediately. "That's not even funny. Do you know how excited she'd be?"

"That could be her Jewish Christmas present from us," Brittany said excitedly.

Santana shook her head. "Hanukah, not Christmas."

The night was a little colder than she expected it to be and Santana was really glad for deciding hot chocolate was a good idea. Brittany must have seen her shiver though, because not a minute later their thighs were pressed up together and arms were looped through each other.

"Present time?"

Santana nodded and handed Brittany her bag. It was reverse order of who went first last year, just like they always planned. Brittany's leg bounced as she pulled the sheets of tissue paper out and threw them carelessly on the ground. With the bag entirely empty of decoration she pulled out a tiny velvety box and a little card. Not surprisingly, Brittany ignored the card and chose to open the box first. Inside were two wavelike-designed earrings. To the untrained eye, and probably to Brittany, it was hard to tell what they actually were.

"Santana, they're beautiful. I love them." She set the box down on her thigh and pulled one out. Santana brushed Brittany's hair back behind her ear gently and watched her fumbled to put them in. When both were in, near the metal rings of her cartilage piercings, she asked, "How do they look?"

"As beautiful as diamonds could look compared to you." Santana grinned when Brittany turned her shocked face to look at her. Her lips were parted just barely and her eyebrows were scrunched together.

"Are you joking?"

Santana shook her head back and forth. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to open the gift without looking at the card first?"

Brittany scrambled again to grab the card and read the dark script. "_One hundred percent certified half-carrot enhanced black and white diamond earrings._ You bought me diamonds? These had to be too expensive," Brittany said as she reached up to her ears, "you need to take them back."

Santana grabbed her hands. "Quit it. They're a present."

"Santana," Brittany pleaded.

Santana cupped her jaw with one hand and pulled Brittany into a quick kiss. "Please."

Sitting back, Brittany looked at the card again. Santana saw she was reading the bottom and struggled to pull the card from her hands before she could see…

"You are a liar! You said only gifts from the ship and you bought these in Columbus!" Brittany shoved her shoulder and laughed. "Why'd you say you were going to get my present earlier?"

Santana shrugged. "I did get you a present." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out another little box that she had snuck into her shorts when they left the room.

Brittany took it from her offered hand and rolled her eyes. "This so isn't fair. Why do you always have to win with the Christmas presents thing." Santana nudged the box in her hand and urged her to open it. "God, San. You suck."

"_Rude._ Open it."

Brittany pulled open the box and giggled as her eyes fell upon the second gift. It was a tiny green bracelet made of string and had her name embroidered into it. On the flip side were Santana's initials and a small purple heart. "You're a goof," Brittany said and picked it up, "put it on me?"

After Santana had fastened it, she held Brittany's wrist and said, "You can count this as my Christmas gift and the other as one just for the hell of it."

"Why?"

"So you can win. You're right, it wasn't fair." She didn't care if she won some stupid game she had perpetuated since they were ten years old and first started to shop for each other. Brittany's shining smile when she opened her present every year was enough of a win for her.

Brittany laughed and kissed her. "Don't count your turkeys so soon, San. You still haven't opened mine."

"Chickens, but you're right. You might not need my pity." She winked and Brittany slapped her thigh. "Ow, give me the present already. God."

Brittany handed over a small wooden box that was embedded with plastic jewels and had painted on designs. Santana opened the box and took a deep breath. Inside was a sparkly silver bracelet, with a heart pendant hanging off one loop. It was vaguely familiar to her old friendship bracelet, but much more intricate. When she picked it up, she marveled at how light if felt compared to how it looked and smiled at the small shimmering hearts that hung around the edges. Brittany took it from her hands and wrapped it around her wrist, clicking the catch into place, and then twisting Santana's wrist back and forth so she could see the tiny hearts fluttering together.

"B, it's—"

"Read it," Brittany instructed, holding her hand up in the air close to her face.

_Wherever you go, take my heart with you_

Brittany rolled her wrist around so she could see the finished inscription on the back:

_It rests in the palm of your hand -B_

"Brittany." Santana knew she was crying but couldn't find it within herself to care. She threw her arms around Brittany's neck and pulled them together. Feeling Brittany's heart beat against her chest was entrancing and she imagined it inside herself, beating alongside her heart, sustaining life long enough for them to hold each other. She couldn't even comprehend that there had been life before Brittany. Why had she held out for so long? There wasn't anything that could come close to how she made her feel.

"I love you so much," she whispered against Brittany's neck, but it didn't feel like enough.

Brittany chuckled against the side of her head. "I love you too."

Santana nuzzled into her neck and squeezed tighter.

"So," Brittany mumbled against her temple, "did I win?"

Santana nodded up and down and her nose dragged against Brittany's skin, creating goosebumps. "Yes," she laughed, "you won. You won big time."

* * *

><p>"Are you sad we'll be home Sunday?"<p>

Santana was snuggled into Brittany's side with her head on her chest and a hand on her stomach. Brittany's left arm was stretched across herself and was holding Santana's hip. They hadn't done much since they got back to the room and since neither one of them wanted to sleep, they left the lights on and crawled into bed. The only sound other than the gentle brushing of waves from their open window was their breathing until Santana had broken the silence.

"Not really," Brittany said in a clear voice. She still wasn't tired. "Are you?"

"No," Santana shook her head into Brittany's side, "I'm ready to be home. I miss my bed."

Brittany hummed. "Is that all you miss?"

"I don't know." Brittany wasn't fooled by her tone. "Maybe."

"Who do you miss?"

Santana groaned. "I don't miss anybody."

"Santana…"

"Alright, fine, I miss Quinn a little. I know how creepy sentimental she gets around the holidays and she can't be having a good time without anyone being there. Don't you miss her?"

Brittany kissed her head. "Of course I miss her. I sent her a message on Facebook yesterday from my dad's laptop."

"Crap," Santana mumbled, "why didn't I think of that?"

"I told her merry Christmas from both of us, don't worry. I also told Rachel happy Jewish Christmas, and asked her if her dads owned the Berry Islands because that's where your bracelet came from. Maybe that's why they're so rich and her house is so nice."

She could feel Santana's smirking into her skin. "I don't think they do, B."

"You don't know that, Santana. She might not tell anybody because she's embarrassed."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see then," Santana told her.

The room was quiet for a few minutes and Brittany thought she heard a bird fly past their window. She didn't think birds could fly above the ocean in the dark, but maybe they made nests on top of the boats. When she opened her mouth to ask Santana, she decided on a better and more pressing question.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Quinn's okay? With Rachel and stuff? She's been kind of, crazy, this year. I'm worried about her."

Santana rolled over so her leg was in between Brittany's and she rested her head on the hand she moved to Brittany's chest, so she could look up at her. "She's okay, Britt. She wouldn't have offered us spots in the glee club again if she was still crazy. She probably would have chased after Shelby on her way out the door after we lost."

"She was acting last time," Brittany said, "like she was normal, remember? How do we know she isn't now too?"

"I've known Quinn forever, B. I don't mean to pull this card, but I've known her longer and I can read her like the back of my hand. She's cool. Didn't you see her at Puck's party? I don't remember the last time I saw her laugh like that, although I was a little drunk so who knows if what I saw really happened."

"No, you're right. She was different. She was like New York Quinn again."

"New York Quinn was sad," Santana said.

Brittany nodded. "She's still sad. Every time she sees Rachel's she's sad."

"Berry's an idiot a lot of the time, but she still lights up like a frickin Christmas tree when Quinn's around. Quinn too. I honestly don't know how they kept that a secret last year."

"The same way we did this year," Brittany said. Although Finn was impossibly more perceptive to _their_ relationship and ruined that.

As if thinking the same thought, Santana muttered, "Why couldn't he catch his own girlfriend?"

"You don't mean that," Brittany chided.

Santana rolled her eyes and then smiled. "Of course I don't. I don't wish what happened to me on anyone in the closet. Especially Quinn, and even Berry."

"I can't wait to see them," Brittany exclaimed.

"I can't wait to see what Finnocence got Rachel for Christmas and how it compares with the eight personalized gifts Quinn got her last year. That's gonna be a riot."

"You called her Rachel."

"Shut up," Santana muttered. When Brittany pouted, she leaned up and kissed her. "Please shut up."

"That's not better," Brittany scolded her again.

Santana kissed her twice more, each just a peck and then mumbled, "I love you and your mouth that you should kindly keep closed when I call Berry her actual name."

"So now it's 'shut up' in nicer words." Brittany sighed when Santana just nodded. "Better than nothing."

Santana pushed herself up and folded her legs underneath herself. Brittany didn't know what was going on, but she did the same thing so they were facing each other.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," Santana said.

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows and chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"I want to know more about my best friend. What is that a crime?"

Brittany shoved her. "You're a nerd."

"Just tell me something."

Brittany tried to think about it but it was hard to come up with something Santana didn't already know. Every time she thought of something good, she remembered the time when she had relayed the information to her. She grasped for anything.

"I wanted glasses when we were younger," she finally said.

Santana grinned. "Why?"

"I wanted to be really smart. Quinn was always really smart and she had glasses. I thought they'd help. And then when we got to middle school and she started dying her hair blonde and got contacts, I wondered if she wanted to be like me. But I couldn't ever think of why she'd want to be like me."

"Because you're so nice, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want to be like you?"

Brittany nudged their knees together. "Your turn, goof."

Santana looked all around the room and frowned at various objects. Brittany wanted to just shake her because she obviously had been thinking of something the whole time. It made her a little worried to find out what it was.

"I uh," she started, "when we were twelve, my Dad got a job offer in California. Do you remember that week we went on a vacation there?"

"Yeah, I remember you cried for like three days before that," Brittany said. She remembered hugging Santana for ten minutes before she got in the car to go to the airport.

"I didn't think we were coming back. But after an hour car ride my mom convinced me we were and I should treat the trip like a getaway and not like we were checking out a possible new home."

Brittany was hooked. Santana must have been holding on to the secret forever, because she even remembered how normal Santana was acting when she came home the next week. She remembered all of the pictures and the smug way she pretended it wasn't the most cool trip she'd ever been on, even if she was smiling in every photo.

"So when we got there, I hated it instantly. Because I didn't want to live anywhere else. Lima was home and you were here and Quinn and even Puck. But when I saw how beautiful the beach was and how cool the house was," she paused and took a deep breath, "I started to imagine the rest of my life there and I liked it. Going to the beach every day, swimming in the huge pool, hanging out with all the pretty people. It was a dream."

"So why did you pretend like you hated it when you came home?"

"I didn't want you to think I wanted to be somewhere else, even if I kinda did. But my parents decided it wasn't smart to rip me out of school and put me in a new place. So we didn't go."

"We could have still been friends. Over Myspace and Facebook and stuff."

"It wouldn't have been the same. Trust me, it was the only thing I thought about for weeks."

Brittany remembered a lot more than she thought she did. "You cried almost every time I saw you."

"I thought they were gonna take me away from you."

Brittany leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry but I'm glad you didn't."

Santana shook her head. "No I'm glad too. But I've been thinking about it a lot recently, and maybe," she looked back and forth between Brittany's eyes, "maybe we could look at schools there. I think you'd really like it there and it's always been an idea in the back of my head. What do you think?"

Brittany hadn't considered anywhere other than New York City in the last two years. After Santana had suggested they keep their options open, she hadn't done a lot of thinking about it, but Santana obviously had. Her grades were steadily improving with constant tutoring from Santana and sometimes even from Rachel, so the prospect of getting into school had been looking better. And to her, it honestly didn't matter where they went. As long as they could be together, and she could do what she loved, she didn't care.

She nodded a few times. "If you want to, I don't care. I just want two things: to dance and to be with you."

Santana was beaming. "I already found like three performing arts schools for you, B. But, are you being serious?"

Brittany smiled. "Of course I'm serious."

Santana let out a tiny yelp and then dove forward to tackle Brittany back onto the bed. She kissed all over Brittany's face and wrapped her arms around her neck. "It doesn't have to be a final decision but thank you so much, Brittany. I love you."

"I love you too." She kissed Santana's forehead.

"And I think you would've looked totally sexy in glasses."

Brittany laughed. "I know, me too."

* * *

><p><em>In Lima<em>

**(4:12 AM): **I know I'm about four hours late, but I honestly didn't know if I should send this message. I really wanted to see you over break and I'm sad we didn't. I understand if you don't want to see me after what happened at Noah's. But I hope your holiday was as magical as you made mine last year. Merry Christmas, Quinn –Rach (I'm not sure if you still have my number)

**(4:16 AM) Quinn:** I've just been busy with my mom and helping Sam out with the homeless shelter. He told me it would open my eyes about real pain, and I think he knows a little more than he's letting on. Don't be sorry, it's perfect now. P.S. I know your number by heart –Q

* * *

><p>Santana grunted as Brittany delivered a painful blow to her stomach. "Britt, move."<p>

Brittany grumbled and repositioned herself in the car seat, groaning when she couldn't find a comfortable position. "I can't. Someone won't let me lay on them."

"It's not my parents who embarrass us at every possible moment. I'm not taking that chance," Santana whispered. She struggled again and finally sat up straight in the seat.

Tony was grinning at her through the rearview mirror. "You're actually doing a good job of embarrassing yourself right now."

Santana flung her head back against the seat and huffed. "It's impossible."

Brittany giggled and laid down in Santana's lap, with her face buried into her sweatshirt. "Go back to sleep."

"Glad your comfortable," she mumbled and shut her eyes.

xx

Sunday night, the Pierce's and Santana pulled into the driveway and stumbled from the car. Anna had to pick up Chrissy and carry her into the house while Tony unpacked a few of their bags. Brittany did her best to hold Santana up and led her into the house. She looked at the stairs and almost whimpered at the challenge.

Santana's head jerked up and she shook it. "I'm up."

"Good cause I can't carry you up the stairs," Brittany said.

"You're," Santana dozed off again, "strong…"

"I'm just as tired as you."

She was surprised that when she moved forward, Santana's feet moved too, even though her eyes were closed. It was kind of entertaining, but Brittany put her full focus into making it up the stairs. Halfway up, Santana started putting a little more pressure on her shoulder and Brittany struggled to move them the rest of the way. She shook her waist when they got to the landing. "Come on, help me. Just a little bit more."

"I'm up," Santana mumbled again.

"Walk then sleepy-head." Brittany let go of her waist for a second and watched Santana drag her feet not even an inch forward. "Yeah, very awake." As she put her hand back around her waist, Brittany yawned. She wanted to be in bed just as much as Santana.

They made it into her bedroom and she deposited Santana on the bed. Santana rubbed her head into the pillow and struggled with the blankets, trying to pull them up around her body. Brittany stopped her fast enough to pull the dirty flip-flops from her feet and the phone out of the pocket of her shorts. She tugged the blanket up around Santana's waist and moved to rid herself of her sneakers and t-shirt, so she was just in a tanktop and sweatpants. Closing the door, she waved to her parents who were on their way into their bedroom.

"Thanks you guys," she said sleepily.

"Good night, Britt," Anna said. Her dad put an arm around her mom's shoulder and nodded.

"Night, honey," he said and Brittany smiled.

"Night," she mumbled and shut the door.

On her way to the bed she stopped and pet Lord Tubbington and Cuddles who had followed her into the bedroom on her and Santana's way up. Lord Tubbington felt a little thinner and she wondered if Quinn had tried the diet she insisted Brittany put him on while she fed them the last couple weeks. After a few minutes of petting them, she went to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside Santana.

She didn't have much room until Santana rolled over to wrap an arm around her side and laid her head against her shoulder. "Took you long enough," Santana slurred.

Brittany chuckled softly. "You could have just fallen asleep."

"Not without you."

"You're going soft on me," Brittany told her. She secretly loved it that Santana was so adorable when it came to her, but that made it all the more fun to tease her.

"I don't care."

"Me either."

* * *

><p><strong>(12:23 AM): <strong>Hope I'm the first one to wish you a Happy Hanukkah! That'd make up for our botched plans this afternoon. Sorry about that, by the way. Maybe Santana invited you to Café John's tomorrow? I hope so. Either way I hope your day is delightful.

**(12: 27 AM) Rachel:** Besides my Dads, I honestly think you might be the only one to wish me that at all, Quinn. Don't be sorry, an opportunity to see Beth was a much more important way to spend the day. I hope she loved the gift you got her. I'll be there, and I hope to see you as well :)

* * *

><p>Santana didn't think she could have run across the café any faster if she wanted to. The second she saw Quinn, she abandoned the table and wrapped her up in the biggest hug. She would have felt bad about leaving Brittany if Rachel hadn't of already been there. Quinn's arms closed around her awkwardly and she could feel the laughter bubbling up in her chest before anything came out of the girl's mouth.<p>

"Miss me much, S," Quinn teased and squeezed her.

Santana dropped back and smiled. "I did, Q. And I'm not ashamed to admit that."

"Wow," Quinn said, "Brittany was right. You are going soft." She looked down over Santana's body and then back up. "Are you sick? Shouldn't you be slapping me or something?"

"I don't know, are you planning on rejoining the Cheerio's anytime soon?"

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about it." Quinn tapped her finger against her chin. "Maybe." She winked and then looped her arm through Santana's. "Cute bracelet by the way."

"Brittany got it for me," she told her and held it up in the air.

"I know. She sent me a picture of it."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Of course she did."

They walked back over to the table and Brittany leapt up to hug Quinn. Santana laughed and sat back down next to Rachel, who was watching with a delighted smile on her face. Santana saw she was staring more at Quinn than she was at the hug and rolled her eyes.

'_Be more obvious, Berry._'

When their hug ended, Brittany and Quinn sat down.

Quinn was laughing and looked at Rachel for the first time. "Did they greet you this way too?"

Rachel nodded. "Brittany did. She twirled me around a little until I begged her to put me down. Santana, however, just gave me a little nod."

Quinn smirked. "Of course she did."

"I'm telling you, Rach, she loves you," Brittany told her, "trust me." Her face lit up and Santana internally facepalmed, knowing what was coming. "Oh! We saw a karaoke machine and she totally thought of you."

Rachel beamed and looked at Santana. "Did you really? You should have performed a song in my honor."

"I don't know if they had Streisand's greatest hits on stand-by for me to give you the proper performance."

"Be nice," Brittany said and then turned back to Quinn and Rachel, "so did you guys have fun here?"

Rachel glanced at Quinn for a second and then looked back at Brittany. "We actually didn't have time to see each other."

"Busy schedules," Quinn amended. The vague sadness wasn't lost on Santana's ears.

"That's sad," Brittany said as she frowned, "what about by yourselves?"

Rachel smiled at Quinn and raised her eyebrows like she was prodding her forward. _'So they did talk to each other at least,'_ Santana reasoned.

"Actually," Quinn started, "I saw Beth yesterday."

Santana's mouth fell open and she exclaimed, "No way! That's amazing."

Brittany smiled rivaled if not surpassed Quinn, Santana, and Rachel's combined. "How is she? Is she pretty? Does she talk yet?"

Quinn put her hand up to stop the barrage of questions. "She's wonderful. I played with her and she is already so smart. Shelby was telling me about how she spends a lot of time coloring and she draws pictures of Puck and me from just the few times she's seen us." Her eyes got a little teary as she talked but the tears didn't pour over like Santana expected them to. Quinn obviously had a lot more control. "Wait, I took a picture." She pulled her phone from her coat pocket and clicked a few buttons and showed them all a photo of Beth playing with a stuffed monkey. "Shelby said Puck dropped that off for her the day before Christmas." Brittany took the phone from her and cooed at the tiny picture.

"She's perfect," Brittany whispered.

"I know," Quinn said firmly, "I'm glad Shelby reconsidered letting me see her."

"It's nice that she's letting you have a role in her life," Rachel said and Santana sensed a small amount of resentment in her voice. She didn't know all too much about Rachel's relationship with Shelby, but enough to know that they didn't end on the best terms.

"What is this," Brittany said suddenly.

Santana leaned over and looked at the screen. Brittany had scrolled either back or forth on the gallery and changed the picture. She didn't recognize the place and it didn't exist anywhere in Lima. It was an outdoors picture of something that vaguely resembled a school, but was too covered with snow to tell.

Quinn grabbed the phone back quickly and her face reddened. "It's nothing."

"What is it," Santana demanded. She was interested now that Quinn seemed adamant about hiding it.

"Tell us," Brittany begged.

"Guys, it's nothing," Quinn tried.

"Quinn," Rachel said, "just tell us."

"You'll just laugh at me," she said.

"We will not," Brittany said.

Santana raised her hand. "I might." Rachel glared at her. "What I'm just being honest. We don't even know what it is. I'm not making a promise I can't keep." She glanced at Quinn. "C'mon, it's just us."

Quinn took a heavy breath and closed her eyes. "My mom asked me about college last week, okay? She said she had been waiting for me to come out of my funk to ask, and she wanted to know if I'd given it any thought. So we visited schools." She let out another puff of air and everyone was transfixed on her face. "One school actually. That's from a tour of Yale."

"Yale," Rachel questioned. She wasn't the only one who wanted an answer, but she was just the first one who _could_ say anything.

Santana's throat was thick and she was a little hurt. Yale was in Connecticut and that meant they would be hundreds of miles apart. Maybe more, considering she hadn't really decided her post-grad options yet.

"It's a long shot," Quinn said, "and I'm not even sure I can get in. But, you guys, when we were in West Side Story this year, that was incredible and so much fun. And Yale has a renowned drama program, and I could study there and even if that doesn't work out I could still get a great education because, well it's Yale."

"You want to act?" Rachel was still the most verbal one at the table which wasn't really all that surprising.

"Yeah," Quinn said, "I think so. I'd like it. I'm just not sure I'll get in."

Brittany was the next to find her voice. "Yale is for super smart people."

"I know, that's why I'm worried—"

"No," Brittany cut in, "that's why you'll get in. You're the smartest person I know, Q."

Quinn's lips were curved beautifully in a smile that would have made Santana jealous had it been a year or two earlier. But seeing her best friend so excited and happy to be starting a fresh part of her life was honestly one of the best feelings Santana had ever felt. She hadn't really considered the end of their senior year together until that moment, seeing Quinn's overjoyed expression at finally deciding how she would make it out of Lima. It kick-started her mind at finding ways for her to get out and ways to bring Brittany with her.

"Santana?" Quinn had been staring at her for the past few seconds and she hadn't noticed because she was so lost in her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm really sad," she said, "I'll miss you so freakin' much, Q. But I've always wanted nothing but the best for you and I'm happy. I want this to work out, because you deserve it."

They were all crying and Quinn reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "Thank you."

"I am going too fucking soft," she mumbled and they all laughed.

Santana wiped at her eyes and glanced over fast enough to see the unmistakable heartbroken look on Rachel's face. When Rachel caught her staring, Santana smiled at her sympathetically. _'Really, fucking, soft.'_


	45. our bittersweet benefits

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I'm tired and didn't check this very well. Bear with me for the mistakes if you see any before I get a chance to go back and edit. It's kind a combo of Yes/No and Michael but there will be more from Michael in the next chapter. I hope you like it :)  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>When they went back to school, the New Directions had an early morning meeting. With Brittany on her arm walking through the hallways, Santana still turned heads, but the hysteria obviously had died down over break. People weren't scowling or glaring at them, so she figured the worst was over.<p>

When they entered the choir room, almost all of their friends were already seated. Quinn rolled her eyes into the book on her lap and Santana figured it had something to do with Puck who was grinning with a smug look on the top row. Bright and cheery, Sugar introduced herself to the band while Kurt and Mercedes snickered from the middle row. Mike and Tina, secluded in a back corner, managed small talk with Rory in between over-the-top glances at each other. The only people missing were Rachel, Finn, and Mr. Schuester.

Santana felt an ease of comfort wash over as she took her seat with Brittany on the second tier. Even if she'd never admit it to anyone, she had missed her friends. Glee club was always important to her, regardless of the almost constant fighting. She felt a kinship to them. Rachel and Kurt saw their futures on Broadway singing and acting, but Santana just saw herself singing. Her and Mercedes had had a few enlightening conversations about how unsure they were of prospective careers in the entertainment business, but with all of the unlikely dreams that surrounded their friends, the two of them felt the most safe. She knew it would be hard, but weren't three consecutive National cheerleading titles, two (expected) trips to National's with a glee club that had been built up from the ground two years earlier, and being forced out of the closet at seventeen _also_ hard? She knew she just needed to start taking it more seriously and had decided on spending the rest of the year building up her talent.

As a downtrodden-looking Finn entered the room with Rachel on his side, Santana knew that didn't mean she couldn't have an entertaining senior year too.

"Finn Hudson," she called from the middle of the risers, "please tell me you did not actually give Berry a star named after yourself for Christmas?"

Finn sat down in a huff. "It was a metaphor," he said in a low voice, "she likes metaphors."

"If it's a metaphor for you, I hope the Sun was available, seeing as it's the only star big enough to represent accurate body mass." Santana was pretty sure she heard Quinn and Puck snicker from behind her.

Surprisingly, Kurt's head snapped to the side. "Santana, please don't start."

She laughed. "Why? It's not like he can throw me any further out of the closet."

"Off to a good start already, Santana," Mr. Schuester said as he walked into the room, with a binder in his hands. He walked over and handed the binder to Finn who let it drop to the ground uselessly.

Rachel was still rubbing circles into his back. "She's just trying to piss me off," Finn said, "it doesn't matter."

Santana glanced to Brittany and squinted. "What the hell?"

Quinn leaned forward and started whispering in her ear, making her jump. Quinn laughed. "Calm down, idiot, it's just me. Rachel texted me and said stop making fun of him, something went down today."

Sure enough, Rachel dropped her phone back in the purse by her feet.

"It's the first day back to school," she whispered harshly.

Quinn poked her in the temple. "Just quit."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Fine." Brittany poked her in the side and she growled, "Stop poking me." It was only after it left her mouth that she realized how loud she was.

Everyone turned to look at her, including Mr. Schuester who had pulled sheet music from the hanging suitcase he carried around. "Santana."

"Sorry."

"Alright, well I wanted us to meet this morning because I have come to a decision."

"You're going to kick Rachel out and let me take lead," Sugar asked.

Santana and Mercedes laughed from different spots in the room and turned to shake their heads at each other. She was glad they had brought Sugar into the New Directions; sometimes the girl was a total bitch but she was always good for a laugh at Troubletones practice.

Mr. Schuester looked awkwardly between them, pausing to smile at a fuming Rachel. "Not quite, Sugar. No, I've decided that I'm finally going to," he paused dramatically and Santana wanted to throw something to start him back up, "ask Ms. Pillsbury to marry me!"

There were cheers and applause all around—aside from Finn who for some reason was still sitting like a dull log. Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together and then began handing out sheets of paper.

Rachel handed the stack back to Santana who took one for herself and one for Brittany before tossing them backwards into Puck's hands. "_Rihanna?_" She looked up at her teacher. "You're letting us do Rihanna?"

Mr. Schuester smiled. "I want you all to perform for Emma before I propose to her. It has to be perfect and I know you can pull it off. That's why I was thinking we can put a number together and I was thinking Rachel could lead it."

While that wasn't really surprising, there were multiple groans from around the room. Mercedes found Santana's eyes through the crowd and raised her eyebrows in challenge. They didn't come back to be in the background again and one of them needed to step up and make sure their instructor knew that.

"Mr. Schue," Santana's voice rose above the commotion.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to take anything away from young Barbra," she said and heard Rachel scoff in the front row, "Calm down munchkin, let me finish." Rachel didn't look back but put her hand up in the air, signalling her to continue. "Thanks. Well I was thinking maybe we could both sing lead. I'm sure you could divide up the verses right?"

He looked shocked at her suggestion. "You want to..._share_ a song with Rachel?"

She nodded. "Yeah, we can work together." Santana could feel Brittany staring at the side of her face but didn't want to lose her ground by looking away. Rachel had finally turned around in her chair and was staring slack jawed in confusion.

'_Getting everyone's attention today,' _she found that thought highly entertaining. It was the perfect way to make her presence in the club known as more than just a backup singer.

"I think that's a great idea." He didn't sound too sure of his words. "Two heads are better than one, right?"

"Precisely," Santana said, mocking Rachel a little. The way the girl was still staring at her only made the moment more amusing. She was going to take it seriously; it was the first step to her plan, but messing with Rachel was always essential.

"I-I look forward to working with you, Santana," Rachel finally said.

"Sure you do." Santana winked and earned herself another scoff. She finally turned to Brittany and saw she seemed confused by what had just happened.

"What was that," Brittany whispered.

"I want to sing." Santana shrugged.

Quinn leaned forward again. "What are you doing?"

"I just want lead on a song, okay? What's wrong with that? This is glee club."

"Don't mess with her, S," Quinn warned.

"I'm not!"

Brittany shook her head. "I just don't get it."

"You are always the one he goes to when we need a new dance routine," Santana told Brittany and then went back to talking to the both of them, "I'm just making sure he knows Berry doesn't have to be the only one he goes to when there's a new song. I'm just as good as her and I want people to see that. That's all this is. Okay? You two good with that?"

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand from the air and laced their fingers together. "Calm down, we just thought you were trying to mess with Rachel."

"I'm sorry, S," Quinn said, "it's just a little unlikely you would volunteer to work with her."

Santana tried to tug out of Brittany's hand, but her grip was too tight. "Yeah, I get it. 'Cause I'm the bully."

"Most of the time, yes," Quinn said.

"Cute."

Quinn laughed. "You can't say it's not true. You just tried to pick a fight with Finn the first time you saw him in three weeks."

"That's 'cause he's an ass," Santana said with a smirk. When she attacked Finn it was more for Quinn than it was for her anyway. Her new plan—that she hadn't told Quinn or Brittany yet—was to make Rachel see how big of loser Finn was compared to Quinn. He had been doing a good enough job himself so far just sitting in front of them not saying anything. They were lucky Rachel and Schuester were keeping him distracted with whatever life-crisis they were focusing on that day.

Brittany changed the subject luckily, "You're going to sound amazing."

"Thanks, B."

"I mean it," she said, squeezing Santana's fingers.

Santana sighed. "I know."

"She's gonna sound better," Quinn whispered as she sat back.

Santana chuckled. "You're a little biased, _Quinnie_."

A few moments later, Santana heard Quinn mutter, "So…"

* * *

><p>Kurt and Finn might have lived together, but Kurt really didn't think they'd gotten any closer because of it. That's why, with Rachel dragging him forward, he didn't understand who chose him for the "Finn Pep-Club." Puck probably would have been a more suitable option, but knowing her boyfriend would freak out the second she got within ten feet of him—ridiculous in his opinion—Kurt knew Rachel wouldn't even try to go there.<p>

Rachel and maybe Mr. Schue were the only people to know what was going on with Finn. He had been more of a zombie than usual in his classes, didn't talk to anybody at lunch, and was staring distractedly into the air at almost every moment. Rachel hadn't said anything to anybody and that included Kurt so he was a little annoyed that he was the cavalry with nothing to work from, but Finn was his brother. He understood the obligation.

Not surprisingly, Finn absently passed books from his backpack to his locker with the same, petulant frown that had obviously found a permanent residence on his face. Rachel pulled Kurt's arm, in which she had locked her own, tighter against her body.

Kurt stepped up, metaphorically and physically, towards Finn and put a hand on his shoulder. Only enough to brush his hand away did Finn acknowledge his presence. Kurt turned to Rachel, not knowing what to do.

"Finn," Rachel spoke into the awkward air, "do you want to get food with Kurt and me? We could go to Breadstix if you want."

Kurt caught a fleeting smile on Finn's face as he nodded.

"Sure," Finn said, his voice matching his looks.

xx

Kurt wondered if the car ride to Breadstix was as quiet for Rachel and Finn as it was for him, alone in his car. The silence once they were filling a booth only confirmed his suspicions. Finn picked at the edge of his flannel sleeve while Rachel tugged loose hairs from her dress.

Kurt loved drama. He loved discussing it, he loved causing it, and he even loved being a part of it. But when there was no action surrounding Finn's pity party, he just found himself bored. Burt had texted him earlier, so it wasn't like something happened to the family he should be concerned about. If Rachel weren't there, he would have assured himself that they'd broken up for the nth time. And he could have been spending his night a hundred more productive ways—considering he had his own NYADA and new warbler-Sebastian problems—so he decided to break the unbearable tension.

"Can someone please fill me in on _whatever_ happened today? I love dining with you two, but this is ridiculous."

Rachel ran fingers through her hair and then glanced at Finn expectantly. Kurt could tell she wanted to tell him everything but was holding back with her boyfriend's _delicate_ feelings in mind.

Finn surprised Kurt with his first full thought of the day. "Aren't we supposed to have everything figured out already?"

'_So he's having a mid-teenage life crisis,'_ Kurt deduced. "Some people don't know what they want until they're thirty years old. We don't have to decide anything right away."

Finn shook his head distractedly, like he didn't have time for Kurt's reasoning. "You two have everything, and I'm just a loser. My dad was a loser," Kurt's eyebrow twitched up because it was new information to him, "I'm a loser, and any kid I have will probably be a loser too."

Kurt glanced at Rachel to see how that blow landed. In her head, they probably had a future full of enough kids to complete the Von Trapp family. Prospective failure for Rachel's kids wasn't even a probability, it was preposterous. Her lips were in a firm line and she immediately found her water glass more interesting, making Kurt shake his head the tiniest bit.

"That's not true," Kurt tried.

Finn's expression shifted into contemplative anger. "Yeah it is. Nothing has every worked out for me. I don't see why now should be any different. I wanted to join the army, but that was taken away from me—"

"Army," Rachel shouted, "when were you going to join the army?"

'_He didn't tell her. How surprising.'_

Finn just shook his head again like it didn't matter. "I have nothing good in my life."

Again, Kurt looked to Rachel. She wasn't even trying to contain her disappointment. Kurt loved Finn, most days, but no matter what was going on in his own life, he would never let Blaine feel the way Finn made Rachel feel. It was said with no regard for his girlfriend, sitting a foot away, caught up in any possible alternative to lighten his burden. She had begged and pleaded Kurt to help her raise Finn from the doldrums and he threw it back in her face without even sparing a second thought. Kurt knew if she ever brought it up, or tried to fight back, he would have accused her of being selfish. Rachel had recollected his favorite argument against her to Kurt multiple times.

He knew how hurt she was. The way her teeth clenched the skin just on the inside of her lips, a dead giveaway. She fought to hold back a wave of tears that were visibly growing in her eyes. Even her deep breaths were familiar. Had there been a wall for her to fall back on, he was sure she would have.

He knew because he'd seen it before.

_Kurt knew Puck's parties were childish, if not entertaining. A nearly naked Brittany ran through the room on Santana's heels, towards what he hoped, for her sake, was not Mrs. Puckerman's bedroom. Brittany spent most of the night drunkenly whispering in his ear that she hoped Santana would just take her for 'Sweet Lady Kisses and Beyond,' a childhood classic forever ruined with her horrifying impression of Buzz Lightyear. Blaine danced full force with Tina for a majority of the night, only stopping when Mike and Artie offered him more shots. Kurt drank a little, but not as much as his friends. _

_A couple makeout sessions later—thankfully with his boyfriend—Kurt found himself in desperate need of a bathroom break. In hindsight, he wished he would have indulged a few more kisses instead of heading to the bathroom._

_Quinn rushed past him, hand on her chest and eyes a tiny bit red, but he thought nothing of it at the time, especially considering she had Brittany and Santana on either side of her. He even entertained a tiny hug with Brittany before they completely disappeared. If someone would have asked him about it, he would have guessed she had just thrown up; given anyone would believe Quinn Fabray would actually let herself throw up._

_The bathroom door was shut. But not long enough for him to even raise his knuckles above his belly button to knock, it burst open._

"_Quinn," Rachel yelled as she chaotically collided with Kurt's chest. They fell to the ground in a lump, limbs tangled in each other and grunting._

_Kurt scrambled away from her when she started crying and grabbed her hands. "Rachel, honey, what's wrong?"_

_She threw herself across the small hallway and into his arms. Rachel blubbered into his chest and clawed into his back. Kurt felt like she was trying to keep herself from falling away from him even though he was holding her. She didn't stop crying for ten minutes, each of which he filled with gentle strokes of her hair. She was incredibly drunk and entirely unaware of her actions. Finally, she sat back out of his arms and lined herself up against the wall, shoulders pressed hard backwards. She was biting her lip, on the verge of hyperventilating again, but she wouldn't answer his questions. Every time he asked what was wrong, she simply shook her head and whimpered. _

_Leaning forward on his knees, Kurt kissed her forehead. She looked up at him and he could tell it wasn't him she was seeing. He had been putting the pieces together over the course of months and her frantic outburst from the bathroom confirmed all of his suspicions. Quinn didn't mind Rachel's arms around her in the Borders the year before because she wanted them there. Rachel defended Quinn at lunch because she knew her intimately enough to know the differences Finn didn't. And Quinn chose the top row in the choir room everyday for the simple reason that she could watch Rachel's every move; Kurt had done the same so he could watch Quinn after their suspicious outburst the year before during Rumours Week. It was easy enough to figure out if someone was looking, and he had been._

"_I have faith in you two," he whispered to her. Rachel's eyes searched his for some clue of what he meant, but he just shook his head. She didn't remember the conversation in the morning and even if she had, he would have denied it._

Kurt loved Finn, most days, but he loved Rachel more. So when she tried another attempt at raising Finn's spirits, he commended her.

"We'll all get through this together," she said, "I'm here and Kurt will be here. There are people who love you and won't let you be a loser."

Finn smiled dimly. "Thanks."

"I love you, Finn, and no matter what happens to you, I'll be here." She smiled but Kurt could tell how forced it was.

Finn turned towards her for the first time and actually smiled. He smiled the same way he smiled when he perfected a new strategy in Call of Duty, the same smile when he announced Quinn's pregnancy to the glee club, and the same smile from when he thought he "saved" Santana.

Kurt didn't like it when Finn smiled like that. His plump cheeks rounded and dimples on display only meant trouble for someone. There were always casualties from a Finn-plan and from the way he could see the rusty gears grinding together in his head, there would be a new victim soon.

* * *

><p>Tuesday nights were study days for Brittany and Santana. Even if she hadn't had a test the next day, they would be running through Biology notes or memorizing her newest history terms. Brittany settled into her math homework without Santana, hoping she could impress her by having a lot of them done before she got there.<p>

_26. If 2/3 of the number of women attending a certain dance is equal to 1/2 the number of men attending, what fraction of those attending are women?_

Two hours later, Brittany tapped her pencil against her forehead. Scribbling small animals and circles around the multiple choice answers wasn't helping her figure it out. Math was considerably frustrating and she'd rather be doing just about anything else. Cleaning toilets seemed a better option than doing math. When she told Santana that a few months earlier, the girl teased that's what she'd being doing with the rest of her life is she didn't focus on the problem.

Thinking of Santana, Brittany grabbed her phone from where it sat on the other side of her desk and checked to see if she had texted her back. She flipped through a few pages and saw she had no new messages. Santana was supposed to be at Rachel's, practicing, so it made sense she wasn't answering; Rachel probably had locked Santana's phone up so her attention couldn't be anywhere else.

She looked back at the math worksheet. _'Algebra,'_ Brittany thought; Santana always said to find the algebra in the word problems.

Brittany wrote:

_2/3 W = 1/2 M_

Then she was stuck again. That's all the problem told her. She checked her phone again. Santana promised to help her study for her math test and while she had made it through twenty-five of the problems, that didn't mean she did them right. They followed the similar pattern Artie had tried with her the year before: she'd do the problem and then he'd check it—or Santana checked it. Without someone to check her work, she didn't know how to feel about the problems.

Brittany tossed the pencil down and grabbed her phone again.

**(7:26 PM):** Are you going to be much longer? I really need help.

_2/3 W = 1/2 M_

_M/W ?_

She had actually been doing a lot better in her classes with Santana tutoring her. A few D's had turned into C's and she even earned a B in her history class. But facts were a lot easier for her to memorize than math processes. It was hard when everything built off of everything else. Santana tried to convince her it was all just memorization but for some reason it just didn't click in her mind. Her algebra grade remained an F and she knew it probably would; especially with no one to help.

She wondered what Quinn was doing and if there was any way she could help out. Not wasting another minute, Brittany tore her eyes from the blank notebook paper and to the tiny screen of her phone.

**(7:28 PM):**Are you busy?

Brittany never found Quinn's timely responses startling.

**(7:29 PM) Quinn:** Working on a short story for English. Why what's up?

Brittany loved Quinn's stories. Well, the ones she had written for her when they were in elementary school. A hidden passion, Quinn didn't share them anymore. She was surprised to hear Quinn had signed up for the Creative Fiction class that semester and wondered if she'd ever get to read any of her assignments. She was sure they'd be wonderful.

**(7:31 PM):** math test tomorrow. I need help studying :(

**(7:32 PM) Quinn:** I thought Santana helps you?

Her phone buzzed again before she could respond.

**(7:32 PM) Quinn: **She's at Rachel's though right?

Brittany nodded into the air before realizing Quinn couldn't actually see her.

**(7:33 PM) Quinn: **I'm sorry, B. I have so much to work on with this.

**(7:35 PM):** It's okay. I understand. I'll let you off the hook if I can read it ;)

She expected Quinn's response. It was the same one she had given when they were younger until Brittany wore her down enough.

**(7:36 PM) Quinn: **You won't like it…

**(7:37 PM):** I always like your stories :)

**(7:38 PM) Quinn:** This one's sad.

She knew what that story was probably about. Her friend effused that you write what you know and for Quinn, heartache stood at the top of that list. Brittany knew it had the potential to be _very_ sad.

**(7:39 PM): **Go back to writing, Q. I'll be fine. I'm sure Santana will show up eventually.

**(7:40 PM) Quinn:** Good luck, Britt.

Brittany tossed her phone on the bed and swiveled around in her chair back to the desk. The math problem sat vacant, still unanswered. She scribbled on the page a few more times and then tried to work it out again.

"_The numbers are there for a reason," Santana had said, "if you can figure out variables then you just apply the numbers to the variables." She pointed at the page. "What are the variables?"_

_Brittany pulled her pencil from behind her ear where it rested after a playful attempt at trying to seduce Santana by looking "nerdy." For her bittersweet benefit, Santana refused and demanded attention on the math problem._

"_X and Y."_

"_Right," Santana said with a smile. _

Brittany found the variables in her fresh problem again, trying to remember everything Santana had told her.

_2/3 W = 1/2 M_

"_There are numbers on both sides, right? What did I tell you the basic idea of algebra was?" Santana looked at the word problem expectantly, wanting her to remember._

"_Solving equations," Brittany said assuredly, "so I have to get the numbers on the opposite side of what I'm trying to figure out."_

"_Exactly." Santana kissed her cheek, but she knew it was just a tactic for her to remember the process easier. Santana didn't know the entirely opposite effect it always had._

Brittany tried her own problem again. "Get the numbers on one side," she mumbled to herself.

_2/3 x 1/2 = 1/3_

_1/3W=M_

"_Now you just put everything together. You know what the problem's asking."_

_Did she? Brittany relied on Santana for the clues and somehow ended up only knowing them when she was led on the right path. Was she really learning?_

"What's next," she mumbled, tapping her pencil against the paper again. The question seemed familiar and she tried to recall what Ms. Hagburg had told them in class the day before about fractions. She grabbed her notebook from the floor and flipped it open to find the notes. There was an almost identical problem in the examples section and Brittany copied it down step-by-step, interchanging the variables with the new numbers and letters.

_W/(W+M)_

_W/(W + 1/3W) ?_

_W/ 4/3W_

_=4/3?_

Brittany saw her answer out of the choices so she circled it. She didn't know if it was right, and she didn't know if she even cared. Like always, she was more focused on when Santana was going to text her back. After she checked her phone for the third or fourth time, she didn't know if she cared about that anymore.

* * *

><p>Santana wished she would have at least taken her phone to Rachel's house for the distraction. The girl was more insistent in her own basement than she was in the choir room and she didn't understand how anyone could stand Rachel in confined areas for so long. She wanted to hug Quinn and Finn for their patience with her; well maybe just Quinn.<p>

The worst part of the night involved the seemingly intentional lack of clocks in the Berry basement. Not knowing how long her torture would last was torturous in itself. She was grateful for all of the pointers and practice Rachel could give her, but that didn't mean she had to enjoy any of it.

So, when she rudely interrupted Rachel's vocal diatribe regarding the second of _We Found Love_ where her voice started to sound pitchy, Santana demanded the time. It was Tuesday after all, and for Brittany, the most important night of the week.

As Rachel fumbled around on the floor through her charts and diaphragm diagrams for her phone, Santana found it on the edge of the couch and gasped. Rachel popped up and grinned at the sight of her phone, until she saw the look of shock on Santana's face.

"It's ten o'clock, Berry." Santana turned on her. "Ten-thirty almost! Did you know what time it was?"

"Well, yes, Santana. I mean while you were lazily drifting through the sheet music, I exchanged a few texts with Finn and had access to the time. I thought we were progressing nicely over the last few hours."

"Wake up, midget. I told you, _when I got here_, that I couldn't stay all night because I had more important things to do."

"I thought that was your usual, crass demeanor. I didn't know you actually had other plans to enter—"

"No, no listen. I had something important to do. No matter how important this bullshit for Schuester is," Santana threw her hands up in the air, "it was more important."

Rachel crossed her arms defiantly. There had been an edge to Rachel's behavior all night, all day even, and Santana had not the need or the desire to question it. "You can't blame me for this. We were working on a project and you came to me for help."

"You're insufferable," Santana yelled, "why are you still trying to act like I came here to hang out with you. We're not friends. We're teammates and that's as far as it goes."

She didn't even mean the words as they came out but Rachel couldn't tell the difference from years of insults. Instead of breaking down, as Santana expected, Rachel just became more hostile.

"Why are you so rude to me? I _know_ why you're here, Santana. The same reason you left New Directions. You want to be a singer, right? You want spotlight, and what better way to enhance your talent then by_ using_ me. You don't even care that I've been trying for years to be friends with you. Have you ever seen me sit back and let a solo get taken from me? No, you haven't because I don't let that happen. But this time, I did, because I wanted to work with you because I could tell you wanted to work with me. And you're so busy making sure I don't think you like me to realize I would help you regardless. I'm sorry, I don't know what your plans are but I'm sure they weren't as important as working on your own future."

Rachel was crying and Santana didn't know what to do. Somewhere in the middle, her rant had drifted off course and stopped being threatening; Rachel was giving up on something and Santana couldn't tell what it was.

"But then you're being selfish and that's not right either. So what do you do, Santana? Work with me or go off and do your other plans. Your whole life will be other plans then, right?"

Santana slowly approached her. "Rachel, what the hell is going on with you?"

Rachel fiddled with the edge of her skirt. Santana couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her wear a plaid skirt to school but the pattern was so familiar against her olive skin, it didn't seem out of place.

"Kurt got his NYADA letter. I didn't get mine, but he got his."

Santana scoffed. "That doesn't mean anything. It could show tomorrow, or the next day. Trust me, I saw his application, he shouldn't have gotten in."

"Santana," Rachel chided, but she didn't sound too offended.

"You're going to get in, idiot. It's _gonna_ happen. We all know it." Santana walked over to where Rachel stood against the bar. "I know I give you shit, and Quinn and B get on my case all the time for it, but I do like you Rachel. Wanna know why?" Rachel nodded. "Because you're a total pain in the ass."

"That's helpful."

"Shut up, I'm not finished." She took a deep breath. "You're persistent and nagging and extremely thorough, sometimes to the point where I feel like if I ever need to off someone, you'd be the person to call." Rachel shook her head, smiling. "I asked you for help because you're the best I know. I wanted to sing with you because I knew it could only make me better. I'm sorry I snapped at you, but there are more important things in life than just yourself. I promised someone I'd help them tonight, and that's why I'm mad. You know there has to be a give and take with relationships."

Rachel swiped at her eyes. "Why does no one else realize that then? Why do I have to be the only one who cares about other people?"

"I care about other people. I needed to get out of here because Brittany needs help studying for a test. I'm sure she's in bed now, either crying or having a fraction related nightmare." Rachel frowned. "I'm not making fun of her, that's just what happens every time she has a big test coming up lately. And Blaine pushed Kurt to figure out his NYADA stuff. Rachel, to be quite honest with you, I don't think you want everyone to care about each other. I think you want someone to care about your future."

"_Who_ does? Finn is too wrapped up with himself to be worried about my future. I love him, I really do, but when he has a problem everything else fades into the background. Why can't he help me, like you help Brittany?"

"That opens up a plethora of questions I refuse to touch with a ten foot pole, munchkin."

"Why?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "You know why."

They both leaned against the bar silently. Rachel considered Santana's words and Santana worried about Brittany. She hadn't been too sure of the material the last time she talked to her, but hopefully Brittany had figured enough out for herself. Even if she left the Berry's immediately, they still wouldn't have enough time to properly study for the test. The most she could hope for was an hour of studying during glee rehearsal, but she had to remember her involvement in their performance was crucial for once. Rachel had made clear the dilemma of focusing on her future, and she sighed knowing there would be a few pitfalls. She just hoped they weren't very deep.

* * *

><p>Brittany sat in the back of the choir room with Quinn going over her math work. Santana texted her the night before around eleven and had apologized profusely in the car that morning, but Brittany couldn't help but feel like if she were really sorry, she'd forego practicing to help her. Quinn was a good tutor, but she got visibly frustrated when she didn't understand something fully. If Santana ever felt like that, she didn't show it as obviously as Quinn did.<p>

Santana danced with Mike, Rachel, and Sam at the front of the room. They were attempting to construct moves as they would appear in a pool, since they were going with Sam's suggestion of using the synchronized swimming team for Mr. Schuester's proposal. She obviously didn't understand everything about Ms. Pillsbury's OCD, but she was pretty sure a pool was covered in germs. Everyone else seemed resigned to the idea, so she just kept it to herself.

"Brittany, focus," Quinn said in a soothing tone. She was happy the girl wasn't yelling like she used to; Quinn hadn't helped her since seventh grade considering the last time _she_ ended up crying and Quinn ended up with a bloody nose, courtesy of Santana.

"Sorry," Brittany mumbled.

xx

Math had been hard. She wasn't even sure she spelled her name right, but Brittany gave it her best try. Finishing a lot later than everyone else, she dropped the test on Ms. Hagburg's desk and left the room. She liked her math teacher because for some reason whenever they had tests, they were allowed to leave the second they were done. Brittany usually turned in either blank tests or ones filled with sketches so she usually spent most of the hour wandering the halls or working on her dance moves in the ballet room. Only having ten minutes left at the end of her test, she didn't know where to go.

Before she had a chance to decide, she faced Santana standing on the opposite hall. The Cheerio's outfits were almost unnoticeable since they had worn them nearly every day for the majority of their high school careers, but she loved the image of Santana standing across the hallway in one. She'd seen pretty much every combination of clothing her girlfriend could come up with, but in a uniform she could appreciate the rest of her beauty. The smooth, tan skin, or her silky black hair fastened into a standard ponytail. It might have been because she knew what was under the uniform, where her legs met the pleats of her skirt or where her shoulders swept into the vest; her mind could fill in the blanks other people only dreamed about. She could lose herself in Santana, where other people didn't have that luxury.

She walked across the hallway and cupped Santana's face, pulling her into a kiss. For some reason, that was the only way she could think to relieve her stress. Their smooth lips gliding against each other momentarily sedated her racing thoughts, letting multiplication and equations fall away into the back of her mind. Santana grabbed her hips and rubbed her thumbs against the elastic material of her Cheerio's skirt.

Santana hummed and broke their kiss. "You okay?"

"For now." When she tried to kiss Santana again, she pulled away.

"What does that mean?" Santana dropped her hands and let them fall to the sides of her body.

"I'm just," Brittany stared. "I'm a little nervous. I'm not sure how I did."

"Did you remember a lot of it?"

Brittany shook her head. "Not really."

"You studied right?"

Brittany fought the urge to clench her teeth. Santana may not have meant what she was implying but she could still interpret it that way. "I did."

Santana put her arms around Brittany's waist and tugged their bodies together. She rested her face in the crook of her neck and sighed. "I'm sorry, Britt. I should have been there last night."

Brittany didn't say anything and hugged her back.

* * *

><p>"Rachel!"<p>

Rachel spun around on her toes and grinned as Quinn approached her with an equal if not greater smile. "Quinn. Hi."

Quinn had changed out of her swimsuit and into a t-shirt and Cheerio's sweats. It wasn't exactly school-clothing for her, but Rachel figured she was working with what she had. Her hair was still wet, looking almost brown in the dim hallway light, and her makeup had faded away. Rachel felt her heart start to throb at their proximity. She hated the effect Quinn had on her. Part of her thought she always would.

"I just wanted to tell you that you were incredible today. I'm sure your voice had everything to do with Ms. Pillsbury saying yes." Quinn could have been blushing but the hair half-covering her face made it hard to tell.

Rachel laughed at her. She had enough time to shower in the gym locker room, blow dry her hair with the dryer from her emergency slushie kit, and put on the black dress she had been wearing all day before their performance.

"I'm _so_ sure. It had nothing to do with the last ten years they've been madly in love with each other from afar. A whirlwind romance."

"A whirlwind romance in McKinley High? I find that hard to believe."

Before she could stop herself, Rachel said, "It's happened before."

Instead of shock, Quinn seemed hurt for a fraction of a second, but then went straight back to her smile, only a little bit less enthusiastic than before. Rachel was confused when she didn't feel relieved. "Anyways, have a good night doing whatever you're doing. Planning our Regional's set list maybe?"

Rachel smiled at the suggestion but knew Regional's didn't hold much weight in her mind lately. If Quinn knew that, there probably would have been a morale decrease in their club. Quinn had always said Rachel was their star and the glue to hold them together; if that changed, who knew where they'd be.

After she took a particularly long time to answer, Quinn spoke again. "Regional's, then National's, then NYADA, right?"

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "NYADA," she mumbled distractedly, not looking Quinn in the eyes.

"You'll get in, Rach. I have one hundred percent faith in you and your talent."

Rachel felt the enthusiasm in Quinn's words and stole forward into a hug. Quinn's chlorine soaked hair against her head couldn't even make her push the girl away. She put her arms around Quinn's center and Quinn closed both arms around her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm great," Rachel said. It didn't even feel like a lie.

xx

Finn grabbed her hands the second she entered the auditorium. "I'm glad you're here."

"You asked me to come here," she teased. Her joy was left over from the encounter with Quinn and she hoped he wasn't about to ruin the first hour she'd felt entirely happy in days.

"I want to talk to you about something." He pulled her over to a lone stool and forced her to sit down on it. She didn't like the contained craziness in his eyes. He was overwhelmed or overjoyed and it was bothersome that she couldn't tell which; either option contained possible fallout. But since she hadn't seen _him_ so happy in days, she couldn't help but feel a little better.

"Go ahead."

"I know it's hard for you, but I need you to not interrupt me, okay?"

She rolled her eyes at the not-so-subtle dig and nodded to him.

"I've been struggling, for days—no years, to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my future. My whole life, I idolized my dad because he was this great soldier and he fulfilled a purpose. And to have that image shattered in front of my eyes with just a few simple truths, was devastating. I was lost the last few days, not knowing where to go from there. Do I stay here, or do I go to New York. I've done a lot of thinking." He paused and she felt the dramatic tension of it all. "And I realized, I have nothing."

Again, she felt her heart drop in her chest. She didn't need or want to hear him keep declaring that she was nothing to him. It hurt each and every time.

"No, no, no." He must have seen the pain in her eyes for the first time. "You have to listen to me. I realized I have nothing, but you. You're the only good thing in my life and I don't want to ever lose you. For any reason."

Rachel remembered how Quinn described her desire to run at moment's notice when something bad was happening to her. It was apparently a habit learned from Santana who didn't stick around the second something became a real threat. When Finn started rummaging in his pockets, she understood the feeling at an amplified magnitude. It wasn't hard to tell from his speech or from the small black box in his hand what was going to come next, and Rachel didn't think she could have recollected the many exits to the auditorium fast enough.

"Rachel, I want you to be my wife. I want you to marry me because I know that no matter how terrible my life is, you'll be the light on dark days. You're perfect and I need you in my life. Rachel Barbra Berry, will you marry me?"

She didn't like when something struck her speechless. She liked to think she had conditioned herself to respond to any situation, regardless of the stakes. Struggling to breathe, swallow, and think, Rachel blinked a few times rapidly to force her brain to catch up.

"Finn." _'Good start, Rachel, keep going,'_ she told herself. She ignored the fact that the voice in her head didn't sound like her anymore. "Finn, I—"

His eyes were watering. He used to laugh when guys cried at the professional football games he begged Rachel to attend with him. He was crying like them, but it was okay when he did it.

"I need…" _'Tell him, Rachel,' _the voice demanded. "I need to think about it, Finn."

Finn stared at her, confused. He didn't expect that. Rachel didn't know what exactly he expected, but that wasn't even on the list of possibilities. Without further hesitation, he climbed to his feet, snapped the box shut and left her in the middle of the auditorium stage. It felt vaguely familiar, only he was the one left hurt.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I wondered how many people would actually check to see if that math is right. I mean, I know if it is or not, and it kind of is foreshadowing to the reader, but it also doesn't really matter. God I just realized all the crap that went down in this chapter. Thanks for reading :)


	46. i miss the kiss of treachery

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: I'm going somewhere with this story that I've had planned since the beginning and I'm unsure of whether or not you'll agree with it. It can be seen as an overall bump in the road, but I'm just not sure how it'll turn out in your opinions. Just know that I'm experimenting with an idea, so bear with me in coming chapters. Also, yes there is Faberry, sometimes a lot of Faberry, and I know sometimes they take over certain chapters, but after 45 chapters, I still know where each couples ending up. When there is more of a certain pairing, I'm doing it on purpose to continue that storyline. I'm sorry if it's annoying because this is a Brittana story, but I like putting comparisons between the two relationships. Sorry for the long note, but I just feel like I need to start putting a disclaimer on every chapter, like this one, that has a lot of Faberry in it.  
><strong>

****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

* * *

><p>"This is the one," Brittany said excitedly. She pointed at the screen and motioned for Santana to come over with the other hand. Santana appeared behind her and laid her chin down against Brittany's head.<p>

For two weeks, Saturdays had been reserved for them to research colleges. Both of them had narrowed it down to two schools; against Santana's wishes, Brittany had applied to the technical college a little out of Lima, just in case. Santana found two schools, one of which had a more exclusive program than the other. As much as the program interested her, it also meant only being five minutes away from Brittany's school. She wouldn't lie and say that when she had done the research months before she hadn't planned it that way, but being near each other was a stipulation neither of them would compromise on.

"Are you sure," Santana asked. "You don't want to look at like UCLA again?"

Brittany shook her head. "No, this is it." She squinted at the screen. "_Dance Theatre_, that doesn't mean I have to dance only in theatres right?"

Santana laughed and kissed the top of her head. "No, they just have to give it a fancy name. You can dance in studios and stuff."

Brittany put one hand back on the left side of the chair at her desk and grabbed Santana's thigh. "I want to go here. But I'd have to audition," she clicked onto another webpage and read, "_at the earliest convenience_."

"Easter is our only other break." Santana reached up and rubbed Brittany's shoulders over the material of her tanktop. "I could visit both of mine too then."

"When do I visit Lima Tech?"

Santana sighed, dropped her hands, and walked back over to where she was playing with pamphlets on the bed. "You don't. Cause you're not going there."

"Santana." She hated bringing it up, but they both had to face the possibility that she wouldn't get in based on her grades. "You know what Coach Sue said."

_The day before after Cheerio's practice, Sue called Brittany into her office. Being in Sue's office always felt more bearable with Santana, so she grabbed her wrist and made her go too._

"_Close the door behind you, Lopez," Sue instructed. "I don't know why you're even here, but I guess it has something to do with requesting a fresh green card."_

"_Brittany asked me to, Coach," Santana said in a heated voice. _

"_Fine, just be silent then." They both took their usual seats in front of Sue's desk and waited for her to flip through the papers on her desk. "Brittany, I've observed your grades over the last couple years. That meant ensuring teachers gave you good enough grades to stay in Cheerio's, which has regretfully also enabled your stay in glee club, and especially an unlikely presidency of which I'm sure you probably already have forgotten."_

_Brittany knew that, after catching Sue fighting with one of her math teachers sophomore year. Her name had come out somewhere in a stream of insults and she watched the woman change her grade forcibly in the computer on Mr. Wallace's desk. _

"_But I've also noted jumps in certain grades where I had no control, leading me to believe you'd made an actual attempt at schoolwork for once."_

"_I had help." Brittany glanced at Santana and smiled._

"_As revolting as that is to see, you haven't improved in one area as much as needed." Sue took off her glasses and frowned. "You've failed every math test you've taken this year, including the one just last week."_

_She had seen Santana's forehead crease in her peripheral vision and knew she was probably beating herself up, again, for not helping her study. The test, branded with a giant red F, had gone immediately into the trash, in case someone went looking for it. Santana found it and almost tore it to shreds in frustration—not at Brittany but at herself._

"_I can only do so much," Sue said, "but my reach doesn't extend into the school board. Do you know what I'm telling you?"_

_The room felt heavy as Santana glared out the window and Brittany tried to draw her attention. She knew what it meant and so did everyone else. Unable to catch Santana's eye, Brittany turned back to her coach and nodded._

"_I'm not going to graduate," Brittany concluded._

"_Not if the grade doesn't improve," Sue said, "you have months, Brittany, but from what I've seen over the last few years, it seems unlikely."_

"_Coach," Santana exclaimed._

_Sue's frown turned into a scowl. "Don't shelter her, Santana. Now she knows the consequences."_

"_Don't listen, Britt," Santana said to her, "we can keep working and we'll figure it out."_

_Brittany had ignored her. Their friends worried about leaving Lima so they could achieve something; she had to worry about not leaving Lima because she hadn't achieved the bare minimum. "What happens if I don't?"_

_Santana groaned and stood up. She walked over to the window and put her hands on her hips._

"_Summer school, probably," Sue said. "Which if you don't pass the material, means you still don't graduate and will have to come back another year."_

_Santana muttered, "Which isn't gonna happen."_

"_I'll figure it out," Brittany said. "Like you said, I have months, right? That's time to bring the grade up."_

"_As unlikely as that sounds, good luck." _

_Santana turned around only one more time to glare at Sue._

"It's not going to happen, Britt. If you pass, you're getting into AMDA. Why even consider the other one?" Santana was stacking the papers with a hostile vigor.

"They are just as selective as anyone else. Passing grades aren't always 'getting-in' grades." Brittany closed the web browser and stood up. She sauntered over to the bed and grabbed Santana around the waist. "Stop getting so defensive when I bring this up."

"I'm not! I just don't want to think about you not graduating. It's stupid."

"I'm stup—"

Santana clamped her hand over Brittany's mouth. "Stop it. You're not. Can we_ please_ talk about something else?"

Brittany's voice was muffled into Santana's hand. Santana smirked and kept her hand there, and Brittany kept talking.

"I can't hear you." Santana took her free hand and cupped it around her ear like she was trying to listen to something far away. "Say it again, I can't hear you."

Brittany stopped talking and stuck her tongue out against Santana's palm. She laughed when the hand dropped away and Santana rubbed it against her sweatpants.

"Gross."

Forcing a frown onto her face, Brittany whined, "You think my tongue is gross? Damn, there go the rest of my plans for the day."

Santana raised an eyebrow and wrapped her arms around Brittany's torso, palms to her shoulder blades. "Your tongue is _wonderful_."

"I've never had any complaints."

Santana's nose scrunched up. "I don't like hearing that," she said with a tiny laugh.

"Possessive?" They nodded together and laughed at each other.

"What if you have to go to Loyola Mariemont and I get into AMDA?" The schools were a half hour away from each other and that was without the undeniable traffic.

Santana leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Then we'll make that work. Thirty minutes is better than half a country."

Brittany knew she only said it to make her feel better. They were both worried about being too far apart and with the looming threat of not graduating, she felt guilty. She would be the one keeping them on opposite sides of the country if that happened. As much as she believed with the proper help she could pass, she always had to prepare for the idea that she wouldn't. It was heartbreaking to say the least.

Santana's ability to read her every thought never faltered. "We'll do it, B. I'll help whenever you need it."

"Unless Rachel needs your attention."

The room fell silent and Santana's hands slipped from around her body. She didn't mean to say that, but against her will it slipped out. Her guilt was amplified with every inch backwards Santana shuffled.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Brittany tried. "I didn't mean it."

For the first time in what felt like forever, she saw Santana clench her hands in front of her body nervously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Brittany stepped forward and tried to put her hands on Santana's shoulders, but came up short. "Stop, alright, I didn't mean it."

Her room felt small and she felt like they were practically on top of each other. "Do you not like me spending time with Rachel?"

"No, I mean—I don't care that you spend time with Rachel, I just, please, I really didn't mean it to sound like that."

Santana hadn't caught onto her implication until she said that. "Do you blame me for that test? I can't be there every time, Brittany. I have stuff to do too."

Brittany latched onto her arm. "I know that, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it. That day was just," _'stop,'_ she told herself but it didn't seem to work, "it was just important."

"You think I don't know that?" Santana stepped forward. "I screwed up, I'm sorry." She hated when Santana yelled, because she knew how bad it made her feel for yelling afterward.

"No! I don't want you to feel sorry. It's not your fault I'm so stupid."

Santana's hands flew out at the side. "Stop calling yourself stupid! You're not stupid."

She didn't know why hearing that made her so angry. It was the truth. It was her fault she wasn't passing math, it was her fault she couldn't do it by herself, and it would be her fault if she ended up in Lima the next year.

Brittany felt herself starting to cry and shut her eyes tight. Her feet were frozen to the ground and she couldn't move from the middle of the room. She wanted to bury her face in the comforter on her bed or to crawl underneath her bed where Santana couldn't fit with her. The desire to be alone was unnerving because she had to compare it to the other ninety-nine percent of the time when she needed Santana within arm's reach.

The tension in the room dissipated when she felt Santana step forward and wrap arms around her shoulders. She cried against the warm skin of her neck and felt worse for being the one who needed to be comforted when she had started the fight to begin with.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, " I didn't mean it."

"Shh, it's okay," Santana whispered into her ear. Her cheek was pressed down against her temple. "I'm sorry, it's my fault."

"It's not your fault. This is all my fault."

"Stop, Brittany, it's not. I should have been there. I told you I'd be there and this is my fault. I won't do that again."

Brittany shook her head and titled her head up so they were looking at each other. "No, I know you're trying to be more involved with glee club. I can't make you drop everything for me."

"We'll find a balance," Santana said with a loose smile, "we'll figure it out."

Brittany was getting sick of hearing that sentence from Santana and from her own mouth. It had already lost almost all of its meaning to her. There was only so much either of them could do. As it stood, they had a lot to figure out, and none of it felt promising.

* * *

><p>Quinn hadn't been the perfect girlfriend. She argued when it wasn't necessary, fought when she had no ground, and ignored Rachel on a whim. But one thing Rachel liked about when they were together was the unparalleled patience she showed her on an almost daily basis. She knew she wasn't the easiest person to deal with, but Quinn never made her feel like that.<p>

Finn was different.

"You haven't given me an answer." Finn lumbered behind her as she headed towards her History class.

"I told you I need time," Rachel said exasperatedly.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side of the hallway. She wanted to protest that she needed to go to class, but it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway.

"It's been a week."

"It's a big decision."

Finn rolled his eyes. "I just don't know why it's so hard to decide. You want to be with me for the rest of our lives right?"

She hesitated. "Of course."

His head titled like a confused dog; the droopy eyes only enforced the image. "You don't want to?"

"I want to be with you, Finn, but getting married is just," she took a breath, "it's a lot to process."

Finn stood up tall and glared at her. "If you really wanted to marry me, you would have said yes by now."

Without giving her time to answer, he turned on his heel and left. _'And I'm dramatic,'_ she thought when she started down the hallway again. Finn proposed marriage as easily as he asked her to get ice cream after school. She loved him, but getting married wasn't ever in her five year plan. Going back and forth between dating a guy and a girl wasn't either, but there were occasionally rooms for exceptions. Marrying Finn wasn't exactly as easy as an exception as kissing Quinn.

The worst part was that since he asked her, she hadn't been able to think of her own reaction. Rachel toiled under the pressure of everyone else's response: would Quinn hate her, would her dads approve, would the glee club perform a love medley at the reception?

She also had to consider what Santana had told her the week before about how unstable their relationship continued to be. NYADA hadn't happened yet, much to her disappointment, so her future hung in the balance. The only person who should have been supporting her, Finn, wasn't. A slew of people had stepped into the divide to offer her words of encouragement, but not her boyfriend. Kurt had been the first, after receiving his own letter, Santana the second, after their practice, and lastly, Quinn whose doorstep she found herself on the day Finn brought her to the auditorium.

"_Are doorsteps our thing, or what?" Quinn frowned when her eyes came around the front door to her house and saw Rachel bundled up for the chill weather. When she saw the distress and almost tears on her face, she opened the door wider and pulled her into the house. "What's wrong?"_

_Rachel blindly put her left arm behind Quinn's back and tugged their bodies together. Her right arm was clenched to her own chest and caught between their stomachs. She detected Quinn's hesitant limbs and pushed closer, encouraging her to hold her. Quinn took the hint and snuggly closed Rachel up in her arms, gently swaying them. Rachel felt serene, the fresh-from-the-shower smell oddly comforting her. _

"_Quinnie, who is it?" Judy's voice rang from the other room and Rachel pleaded for her to stay put, so she could spend a few more minutes in their sheltering embrace. _

"_A friend," Quinn yelled back as soft as possible, her voice reverberating into the top of Rachel's head. She leaned her head down and whispered, "Can we go to my room?"_

_Rachel nodded and let herself be led up the stairs. Quinn left one arm around her body and guided her down the hallway and towards her room. Once inside, Rachel pulled free of Quinn's clutch and walked over to the desk chair. She sat down and swiveled her chair in time to see Quinn close the door and lock it. They hadn't been in her room in forever. Quinn seemed so domesticated there and it was entrancing to watch her move around in peace. Quinn's had her hair up in a bun, loose hairs falling across her slender neck where the ponytail wouldn't hold them. She had on a paint-splattered black t-shirt, and red, faded Cheerio's sweatpants. She went to her bed and straightened a few pages of paper and tossed them on her side table with a notebook. She worked frantically, like she was unsure of what needed to be done._

_When she finally turned back to Rachel, her eyes were soft and contained. "What happened?"_

"_He proposed to me." She didn't feel like any more explanation was needed._

_Quinn seemed petrified. "Who?" _

"_Noah," Rachel teased, "Finn, Quinn, who else._

"_Proposed," she said flatly, "proposed to get matching tattoos?"_

_Rachel groaned. "I'm serious, Quinn."_

"_Wow."_

"_Yeah."_

"_You," Quinn paused, "you didn't…you can't say yes to him…right?"_

"_You don't think I should?" Rachel fished for anything, she needed input._

"_Can I be honest?" Quinn stared at her hands and picked at her fingernails._

_Rachel nodded._

"_First, we both know how highly inappropriate you coming to me with this question is," Rachel nodded again, "and I don't want that to sway anything I tell you. I'm going to say this as a friend, because I care about you. As a friend."_

_Rachel ignored that, because it felt like a not so subtle guilt-trip. She nodded._

"_You can't do this. It's ridiculous and very selfish on his part."_

"_If I planned on being his forever, why wait?"_

_Quinn closed her eyes. "Did you get your NYADA letter yet?"_

"_No."_

_Shaking her head a fraction to the left, Quinn said, "Don't do this because you feel like you have nothing else. It'll happen for you. You have to know that."_

"_I don't know that. How can I know that?" The hand of god hadn't proclaimed that anything Rachel Berry wanted, she got. Not yet at least._

"_Rach, you know, almost, everything about me. And I've screwed up countless times. But you know what happened to me yesterday?"_

_Quinn looked up at her with smiling, hazel eyes. "I got my acceptance letter, to Yale." _

_Rachel stood up from the chair and walked across the room, with a bright smile. She hugged Quinn, squeezed her once, and then sat down a foot away from her on the bed. "Congratulations. That's incredible." She had a hard time restraining the small amount of jealousy in her voice._

"_I got mine, and you'll get yours. I promise you that. But getting engaged at eighteen is stupid, Rachel. I think you know that, or you wouldn't be here."_

_Rachel surged forward for another hug. "I just don't know what to do anymore."_

_Quinn ran a hand through her hair on the back of her head, tangling her fingers gently in it like she used to do. "You do what will make you the happiest. You're Rachel Berry. You deserve everything you want out of life, but only the things__** you **__want. Do you understand?"_

_Rachel nodded into Quinn's chest and willed her to hold her for just a little longer. Whether she sensed that or did it of her own choice, Quinn complied._

Rachel sat down in her history class room and opened her notebook to a fresh page. Pro's and Con's always worked when she needed to decide between new songs for competition, so they could work for whether or not to marry Finn. She created two columns, one if she said yes, and one if she said no. Immediately remembering their goodbye the week earlier, Rachel's hand went straight to the 'no' column.

_Yes / No_

_ /Quinn_

"_Can I ask you something ridiculous?" Rachel buttoned up her coat on the front porch, staring at Quinn across the threshold of the door._

"_You're not going to ask to marry me are you?" Her uneasy smirk almost put Rachel off of the questions all together. _

"_No, I won't."_

_Quinn smiled and nodded once. "Go ahead then."_

"_Would you, would it be so crazy to think of us as more than friends again?"_

_She saw the other girl visibly gulp and her eyes dart away. Her own heart raced, unsure of why she even asked the question in the first place. She just wanted to know. Quinn's mind had been a closed trap to her for almost a year. Rachel secretly wondered if she still told Santana and Brittany as much as she used to and tried to ignore how jealous that thought made her._

_Quinn cleared her throat and did the thing where she nodded to affirm herself in whatever thought she was having. Rachel remembered she did that the first time she told her they were going to be friends. _

"_Would it sound crazy if I told you I thought about that every day?"_

_Rachel's heart thumped and she grinned. "No, it's not."_

_Quinn smiled, full of teeth and bright cheery eyes. "I'm glad." Her words bordered on tears._

"_I'm always going to care about you, Quinn."_

_As she had hundred, if not thousands of times before, Quinn surprised her. She strode forward and cupped Rachel's cheeks, pulling her forward into a desperate kiss. Rachel couldn't pull away, but she also didn't really want to. She'd cheated before, but that kiss felt different. It wasn't lustful and their mouths remained only attached for a hard few seconds. More time was spent mixing breaths in front of their lips, breathing into each other. Quinn tapped her forehead against Rachel's and pulled away._

"_I'm sorry."_

_Rachel had her eyes shut and she shook her head. "It's okay."_

"_It's not okay."_

_When she opened her eyes, Quinn didn't look as sincere as she sounded. Her eyes were bright again and her lips barely curved up at the edges. _

"_It doesn't have to mean anything," Quinn told her. "I just couldn't," she blushed, breathless, "I didn't want to go another year without kissing you." _

_Boundaries had been crossed, like they always had and she didn't know what to feel or what to think. Unsure of what to say, she simply said, "Goodbye, Quinn," and left._

* * *

><p>A week later, Santana found herself again on the front porch to the Berry's. She came across a stipulation in the Musician's Institute application process that said for their Independent Artist Program, she had to record and mix a track of her own music. Knowing Rachel had thousands of dollars worth of recording equipment in her home studio, she begged the girl at school to let her use it. After securing the favor, she promised Rachel one in the future, for anything she wanted.<p>

Rachel smiled as she opened the door, ushering Santana into the house. "Hi!"

"Hi," Santana said coolly. Looking down the hallway and up the stairs, she asked, "Are your dads here?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nope."

"Did you plan it that way," she asked with a smirk.

Rachel shrugged. "Maybe. C'mon, if you're gonna use all my stuff I have to show you how everything works."

Rachel led her down to the basement and opened a back door that was so easily blended into the walls she hadn't ever noticed it before. It opened up into a tiny home studio, complete with a room wide enough to hold various instruments behind glass. A booth was set up on the far left side, with equipment for what Rachel explained as solely vocals—her expertise. There was a large mixboard in front of the glass window and Rachel tossed her a book explaining what each button/switch did. She went over a few of the necessary ones first, so she would have general knowledge of how to proceed.

Santana had insisted that she wanted Rachel in the room to help her on most of the project anyway, to which Rachel clapped and bounced on her toes with enthusiasm. She loved watching how excited Rachel got over the smallest things, especially because of how ludicrous she reacted.

After a tour of the recording booth, they went into the central room with all the instruments. Rachel's fingers danced across the piano set up on the far wall and tapped a few of the keys. Santana sat down behind the orange drum set and kicked the bass a few times to test it out. She didn't have much experience with actual instruments and felt like a kid in a candy shop with all of the ones she could play there.

"Why do you have all this stuff? Do you know how to play all of these?"

Rachel smiled, playing a short melody on the piano. "I have a basic knowledge of most of them. Guitar is pretty easy and Noah gave me a few lessons when we dated sophomore year."

"Gross," Santana said, but was still smiling.

"_But_, my fathers play as well. Dad is quite a drummer and Daddy enjoys guitar more than anything." Rachel twirled around on the piano bench. "I could see you playing almost anything, Santana. But, I think you'd enjoy piano. Your voice is thick and if you don't mind the adjective, sultry. I think you'd sound amazing accompanied by piano."

"Too many compliments, munchkin. It feels like you're hitting on me." Santana stuck out her tongue and faked a wretch.

"Not many people get compliments on their talent from me, so you should actually count yourself lucky." When Rachel turned around again, Santana saw something sparkle near the collar of her shirt.

Santana stood up with a smirk. "What is that?"

Rachel twisted her head back. "What's what?"

Santana walked over and reached for Rachel's neck. Rachel ducked her head and laughed. "What are you doing?"

"What's around your neck?"

Instantly, Rachel blushed. "Nothing, there's noth—"

"Don't try to lie and pretend like I didn't just see a diamond ring around your neck."

"Santana…"

Santana groaned. "Are you friggin kidding me right now, hobbit?" A ring meant one thing; hidden underneath her shirt, somebody had put a ring on it, and she figured what idiot would pull that crap in high school.

"It's not any of your business, Santana." Rachel stood up and left the room, heading into the recording booth.

Santana followed her with another groan. She had her own stuff with Brittany to worry about considering every time they were alone together felt like someone scratching their nails down a chalkboard. _'This is why I don't hang out with Berry. Everything with Berry is frickin drama.'_

"Rachel, c'mon please tell me that's not what I think it is."

Rachel fiddled with the chain she had extracted from her shirt. "You told me not to lie to you."

"Like you and the jolly green giant don't have enough problems without adding a marriage to the list."

"Please, stop, Santana."

Santana dropped onto a stool against the back wall. "I'm sorry, you just have to know what a mistake this is."

"I don't think it's a mistake."

"Does Finn even have his life together? Do you two even have a plan for the next ten years? What about the next five years? Five months, even? It's insane to think getting married is a valid option right now."

"No matter what, we plan on being together, so I don't see what the problem is."

The resiliency is Rachel's voice only meant that she knew every negative thing people were going to say and had already built up a wall in her mind to defend the decision. She didn't understand where the decision had even come from. She knew she'd marry Brittany at some point in her life, but that didn't mean they were settled enough to even entertain the idea of getting engaged within a year. They had enough problems figuring out if they were even going to stay within a hundred miles of each other. Against Brittany's knowledge, Santana had already prepared for the event of either circumstance. Lima or L.A. they would be together if she had anything to say about it.

"What about Quinn?"

Rachel picked more insistently at the chain. "What about her?"

"You told me you loved her not too long ago. Are you ready to give her up for Finn?"

"I've talked to her about it already, Santana. She told me to be happy and I think this will make me happy."

"She told you that, implying she was the thing that could make you happy."

Rachel glared at her. "You weren't even there. How would you know?"

"Because I have eyes, maybe. I can see her stare at you in the choir room and how she _still_ swoons whenever you sing, like she always has. I've known Q a long time, Berry. I know what's going on in that head even if she doesn't tell me."

"I've thought about this for a while and I've already made my decision. My life is with Finn now, regardless of how anyone _else_ feels about me."

"You're aware you're eighteen, right? Not some thirty year old having a mid-life crisis when she picks the wrong kind of bread."

"Santana, I hate to be rude, but I don't care what you have to think about it. It's my life, and with our mutual friend's blessing, I'm marrying him." The conversation was surprisingly lighter than she expected. Rachel seemed too resigned to the idea to accept anyone else's opinion anyway.

"The fact that you need her blessing, proves how unable you are to make this decision on your own. But, whatever. I have to go anyway."

"Study date?"

Santana winced. "Sort of. Although, the date part has been lacking lately."

"Are you two okay?"

Shrugging, Santana stood up from the stool and started towards the door. Rachel followed her and they went upstairs and out through the door. She didn't want to talk about Brittany. Her relationship was her business and she didn't like anyone knowing they were having problems. She and Brittany weren't supposed to fight after they got together; they were the perfect couple.

On the porch, Santana turned around to say goodbye and noticed the overflowing mailbox above Rachel's head. "You've got mail, shortie."

Rachel reached up and grabbed it as she waved goodbye. Santana turned around and walked down the front steps towards her car. Before she got too far, she heard a gasp. She twisted around and saw Rachel standing still on the front porch, staring at the envelopes in her hand.

"Rachel," Santana yelled, "you good?"

Snapping out of her confusion, Rachel looked up. She waved the papers around and with a panic-stricken face, and said, "NYADA letter."

With a smirk and a final wave of her hand, Santana answered, "Told you, idiot."

* * *

><p><strong>(5:38 PM) Santana:<strong> I just left Rachel's, I'm coming over there now okay?

Brittany glanced up from her phone to look around Quinn's room and worried her lip between her front teeth. She made the decision to blow Santana off hours before when the girl said she was going to Rachel's and had only then started to feel the guilt. Quinn looked up from the book in her lap and smiled at Brittany, using her eyebrows to ask if she was ready to move on. Brittany shook her head and typed out a response to Santana.

**(5:40 PM): **I'm at Quinn's, sorry. She's helping me with some stuff.

**(5:41 PM) Santana:** I thought I was helping you study?

'_Me too,'_ Brittany thought before responding.

**(5:42 PM): **I haven't seen her in a while and she offered so…I'm sorry S.

**(5:42 PM) Santana:**It's fine. Have fun, B. I love you.

**(5:44 PM):** I love you too.

"You okay," Quinn asked, dropping the book again.

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Ready to work?"

"What's wrong, B?"

Brittany sighed and rolled over on Quinn's bed so she was staring up at the girl from her back. "Me and Santana are having problems. Actually, I think I'm just having a problem with her."

Quinn set the book down and ran her hand through Brittany's hair. She loved how tactile Quinn was when she was upset. They had a friendship based mainly around comforting each other. Quinn went to Santana a lot of the time when she was upset, but she called Brittany when she needed someone to come over and make her feel better. Brittany had gone to Quinn first when she started to understand her feelings towards Santana and Quinn had eased her worry, explaining that she was allowed to feel that way. She wanted to be friends with Quinn for the rest of her life, in case anything bad ever happened.

"What's going on?"

"You know about all the schools we applied to in California?" Quinn nodded. "Well, you don't know that I might not graduate and might have to stay here."

Quinn smiled awkwardly. "I actually did know that."

"Who told you?"

"No one told me, I just figured it out with the sudden desire to study and do well. Puck's been kinda the same way."

"But, Santana keeps acting like there's no possibility of me not finishing and it's irritating."

Quinn continued to lightly trail fingernails across her scalp. "She just doesn't want to think of you not being with her next year." Quinn chuckled and said, "We both know Santana denies almost everything that upsets her."

Brittany sat up. "I know but, do you know how hard it is to feel like I can get anything accomplished when she keeps insisting there's no way I can't do it. It feels like she's making my problems less…important or something."

"She belittles them." Brittany nodded. "She's just worried, B. She wants you to pass and it kills her to think you can't."

"But that doesn't help me. And I need her to help me like she said she would."

Quinn untangled her hand from Brittany's hair and laid back on the bed, sighing. "She's trying. I can tell because she nervously checks her phone every second we're together. And when she talks about going to Rachel's she's excited but also concerned that there's somewhere else she needs to be."

"She's always at Rachel's, now."

"They work together, Britt, you can't be jealous of that. Santana can barely stand Rachel, so you know nothing other than work is happening there."

Brittany groaned. "I know, I just hate it." She hated herself for knowing she shouldn't be jealous and that Santana was doing the best she could to make her own future happen. If Brittany wanted to hold her own and make sure she could start passing, she needed to spend time with someone dedicated to helping her. Quinn had been the person lately, and she smiled knowing her best friend would do anything to help her. Rolling into her side, Brittany grabbed Quinn across the waist in an awkward hug. "Thank you for helping me."

Quinn laughed, laying her arm down across Brittany's to return the embrace without making it more difficult. "It's no problem, Britt. Can we get back to work now?"

"Sure," Brittany said and sat up. Quinn followed and grabbed a notebook from her side table. She flipped it open and then handed it to Brittany, displaying a page filled with practice problems.

Brittany wanted to get better for her own sake, almost as much as she wanted to get better for Santana. She knew if she really tried, she could make it happen. Wanting to prove to Santana that she could do it on her own, and wanting to make Quinn feel like she had done something good, Brittany started into the problems more sure of her pencil strokes than she had ever before.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :)<strong>


	47. please don't let me go

**Title: Don't Ever Lie To Me**

**A/N: Hi! Okay so this chapter is something I've wanted to do for a while and have been waiting for a chance to work it in somewhere. I hope it's not too far off base for you guys, but I actually really like how it came out even if it doesn't necessarily continue any of the plot points from last chapter. That stuff will come back in the next one, but I wanted to put in a little reprieve. It's weird because I feel like I haven't had a chapter be only one or two scenes in a long time. It's probably been not that long, but whatever. Alright, have fun :)  
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**Breakdown6-Wait, what do you think I'm doing? I mean I'm doing something, but I'm curious what you think it is haha. I'm not sure if I want to do the wedding yet. I have an idea for going either way with it. Maybe I'll message you on tumblr and ask you what your opinion is, cause I need the input. Sorry to be disappointing, but this chapter doesn't really fit with the rest and you won't be figuring anything out from it. Thanks for the review bud!  
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**Hecksyea-I'm sure you don't want me to tell you _everything _;) I mean you'll just have to keep reading and find out right?  
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**jtour-Thanks! Everything will come together nicely soon ;)  
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**genetic-thank you! I'm having trouble deciding how much like the show I want to make the next few chapters because I honestly kind of hated what they did with everything. It'll be interesting to see as it develops from here haha. -not too inspiring coming from the writer, I'm sure :)  
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**thekittypaw-I have to believe that if one of them were failing, the other would have intervened at some point to help them out, even if the show contradicted that. I'm glad you like the way its presented and I hope I make the story work out well as they deal with it :) Thanks for the review.  
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**Jackien1-Haha I'm brainstorming ideas for Santana to make Finn look like an ass. Quinn is a hundred if not thousand better choice than Finn could ever be!  
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**JohnDo-I'm not saying you have to read the Faberry, and sorry if it came across that way lol, I'm just saying it's gonna be there until the end. Brittany and Santana always work things out, don't they ;) Thanks!  
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****As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any characters. All belong to RIB and Fox and whoever else that is not me:)**

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><p>The front door to the Pierce house flung open as Santana waited patiently on the front porch. The last time she just barged in, Brittany hadn't actually been there, so she decided to start waiting for someone to answer the door before going inside. It felt a little odd the first few times, and Britt's dad always gave her crap for it, but she had her reasons.<p>

Brittany, bursting at the seams, pulled Santana into a hug almost immediately, squeezing her shoulders together. Santana was caught off guard and struggled as the breath held in her chest failed to escape properly. She coughed over Brittany's shoulder and laughed, trying to separate herself to breathe. Brittany pulled away and slapped her on the back encouragingly.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" Brittany smoothed her hand over the back of her denim jacket and smiled.

She coughed again, still laughing and shading her mouth with one hand. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good," Brittany said and grabbed her again, initiating another boisterous hug. "Guess what happened!"

Peering over Brittany's shoulder into the house, Santana saw abandoned papers scattered across the tile entryway. A tattered envelope hung off the edge of the small table near the staircase with a familiar bright logo emblazoned on the front.

"Well, I'm guessing you didn't get rejected from ADMA?"

Brittany shook them back and forth in her excitement. She practically yelled her enthusiasm in Santana's ear. "They want me to audition as soon as possible. This is so amazing, San!"

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and squished their bodies together. She loved the warmth radiating from Brittany's body into her own and squeezed tighter, content in her arms for as long as the hug would last. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

Brittany lifted her head from Santana's shoulder and twisted to kiss the side of her head. With her lips still pressed against the skin there, she mumbled, "Thank you, but don't be so proud yet..."

Her throat thickened. "Why?"

Brittany let go and Santana almost whimpered at the loss of contact. It had been far too long since they had simply held each other and she regretted every new second apart.

"I got waitlisted," Brittany said, more like a question than a statement.

'_Damn it,'_ she cursed internally. She was sick and tired of all of their news being defeated by one stupid grade. Sure, Brittany struggled more in school than anyone else, but if you lined her up with some of the people they knew, she would look like a freakin genius. There _was_ a reason Brittany helped win the academic decathlon competition the year before. Quinn used to always say that Brittany did pay attention, but only thought the things that directly affected her mattered. She didn't need to know the quadratic equation in seventh grade because mathematics didn't matter in ballet. But that didn't mean she couldn't remember if it helped her perfect a move. Someone who could memorize and choreograph a routine on the fly upon hearing a song for the first time wasn't stupid; she was specific.

They had celebrated Santana's acceptance into Loyola Mariemont the day before at Breadstix with her parents. With the timid smile on Brittany's face for most of the evening, she didn't have to guess the worry she must have felt. Santana had her back up school ready, even if Brittany's future still hung over their heads. She still hadn't told her about the back up to the back up though.

"We're a step closer, San, that's all that matters," Brittany said, kissing her temple again. "Can we just be happy today?"

Santana stepped away and smiled. "Of course. We celebrated me, so let's celebrate you. What do you want to do?"

Bright teeth shined at her with an infectious smile, making her own lips curve up at the ends. Brittany looked practically giddy with excitement. It was nerve-wracking but also wholly comforting. Brittany's smiles were the best.

Xx

'_Driving is the worst,'_ Brittany thought, hands on either side of the steering wheel. There were so many distractions back in the woods: bunnies hopping on the dirt road, the sunset dropping low on the dusk horizon, and Santana's glaringly empty hand. Santana had been acting a little weird whenever she tried to initiate contact like that so Brittany ignored it for the time being. Even if she could imagine how warm her hand would feel with Santana's fingers tangled with hers.

Ohio weather conflicted between years. The year before it had been bitterly cold until April; that year it was summer warm at the end of February. The snow disappeared as fast as it appeared on barely dead grass, the warmer climate letting it survive despite days of freezing cold. Driving full speed, Brittany hoped someone cleared the track of whatever natural debris fell during winter. She hadn't been in a while and hadn't contacted anyone to see if people still used it. That's what the hope was for.

The content smile on Santana's face told her it didn't matter where they ended up. The devious smile on her own meant Santana should have been worried. She wasn't going to like what she had planned. Last time, their junior year when she took up the sport in the first place on a suggestion from one of her dance instructors, she brought Santana to the dirt track she had whined and pleaded to leave because of how boring watching other people was. If she didn't like _watching _people, she was certainly not going to like what Brittany had in mind.

Luckily, Santana either forgot where the path led or chose to ignore it for her sake. When they finally reached a clearing, her wide eyes expressed an entirely different sentiment.

"Brittany," Santana said hesitantly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are we _here?" _

The practice field stood as immaculate as Brittany remembered it. Rolling hills of dirt, complete with muddy tracks of bike tires running through the length of the course. She stopped at the gate and climbed out of the car without answering Santana. She tugged at the lanyard underneath her orange long-sleeved shirt as she walked towards it, finding the key, Tom, the owner had given her when she paid for year-round access. Twisting the key in the padlock, she threw the gate open in one swift lunge of her arms.

When she turned back to the car, she saw Santana still staring wide eyed at the track. Brittany grinned and skipped back to the open door, plopping down in the seat. She put the car back in gear and drove towards the huge shed at the far edge of the field.

"What's the most important place in the world to you," Brittany asked, keeping her eyes on the road even if she didn't really have to.

She could feel Santana's eyes burning into the side of her head as she contemplated an answer. When she finally looked over, Santana smiled. "The park," she paused and then added, "_our _park."

Brittany turned at the edge of the large wooden shed and stopped on the other side of it near the door. She shut the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt, positioning her body towards Santana, who did the same.

"Mine too." She reached over and grabbed Santana's hand. "But this place is important to me too. Last year, do you remember I took all those extra dance lessons?" Santana nodded. Her fingers played with Brittany's knuckles while she listened intently. "I was trying to get rid of all the pent up frustration I had with the two of us and everything that was going on."

"Do you mean, like, with Artie and everything?" Santana's calm slowly edged away into nervousness.

"Yeah, and you and me and stuff. But that's not my point. Mrs. Schilles told me to find something more intense and hands on to put my focus into. Her husband picked her up that day and he owns this track, and he told me about the new motocross lessons he was starting up and said someone with my coordination and balance would pick up racing easily, so I did it. And I had so much fun."

Santana chuckled softly. "I remember, B. You always wanted me to come out here with you and try it."

"You never did! I thought it would help…"

Santana pulled their hands into her lap and smiled down at them. "I came once."

"And complained the whole time."

Biting her lip, Santana used her empty hand to sandwich Brittany's. "Wanna know a secret?"

'_A secret?'_ Brittany nodded.

"I wanted to leave because I didn't want you to race and practice with everyone else. You went off one jump when we first got here and I was so terrified you were going to die. I hated it."

The consistent worried and fear on Santana's face every time she told her she was going to practice over the last two years made sense then. Brittany had always chalked it up to jealousy of where she spent her time, but Santana never wanted her to go because she thought she'd get hurt. It was incredibly sweet.

"Babe, I fall all the time and never get hurt," Brittany said through a laugh.

Santana exclaimed quietly, "You still fall! That worries me."

Brittany's laugh echoed through the small car. "And everyone thinks you're the badass."

Santana pushed her hands away and crossed her arms. "Shut up!"

"Aww, Sani." Brittany reached across the console and tickled her sides, freeing her arms. Santana jerked away from her touch and shrieked. Brittany grabbed her hands and held them tight, fighting against Santana pulling them away from her. "Look, you can make it up to me."

Still tugging her hands, Santana complained, "I don't want to make it up. Let me go, I hate you!"

"You _love _me," Brittany drawled out. "C'mon, you're ruining my celebration."

Santana stopped struggling and glared. "That's cheating."

Brittany let go and put both of her hands up in the air. "Not my fault you only wanted food yesterday and didn't think of something better." Not that there was much Santana could have asked for that Brittany would have complained about. She loved spontaneous plans almost as much as Santana hated them.

Santana let that sink in and then allowed the crease in her forehead smooth over in thought. "Wait, what do you mean make it up to you?" The glint in her eye suggested she already knew.

Brittany laughed and then titled her head towards the backseat. She hadn't hid anything in particular about her plan, but Santana seemed too oblivious to even care. When she glanced back and saw the riding gear. If her eyes widened seeing the track, they tripled in size noticing the companion pair.

One was bright yellow and lined with baby blue, Brittany's practice set. On top of her same-colored pads was a tattered yellow helmet. It hadn't been in use for almost seven months but still held all the dings and scuffs from when it entertained everyday wear. The other set, one she reserved for races only, showed no wear or even minimal use. She made a habit of not dirtying it so when she actually raced or performed she had a clean look. In what felt fitting to her, the color was a rich red and white lining. The pads were white and the helmet black. She hadn't had much of an explanation for the color scheme more than it was what she felt comfortable in and what she was used to.

"No," Santana tried to say firmly. Brittany would have taken her more seriously if her voice hadn't wavered.

"Yes, you said whatever I wanted, and this is what I want."

Santana's head whipped around. "I don't even know how."

"I'm going to teach you. You can ride with me a few times and get the feeling and then you can use one of Tom's crappy practice bikes."

"I'm gonna die, Britt."

"I won't let you," Brittany teased. "Please, Santana. _Please." _She puffed out her bottom lip in a move she knew gave her an unfair advantage. She'd used it for personal gain since they were twelve.

With a defeated huff, Santana unbuckled her seatbelt. "I _hate_ you."

"You don't!" Brittany clapped her hands and sprung forward to close her arms around Santana's neck. "You're going to love it."

"If I die, I'm haunting your sweet ass."

Brittany giggled and sat back. "I wouldn't mind that."

They got out of the car and Brittany waited for Santana to cross in front of the car. She took her hand and led her into the equipment building. She twisted her key again in the lock and used her left arm to swing the wide-door open. Flipping the light on, she watched as the room displayed familiar and some not-so-familiar dirt bikes distributed across the cement floor. Some were propped up on tables and were missing wheels or their plastic guards. Others were still fresh with dirt and grass from recent practices. Brittany noticed the only other girl who raced there, Sammie, had her bike close to the door and had obviously been out recently.

Her bike sat far in the back corner, clean and well maintained; Tom did maintenance on all the riders' bikes for free as long as they paid their track fees. Brittany abandoned Santana briefly to wheel her bike out into the middle of the floor and played with the handles and switches to make sure everything was in order. She could feel Santana's eyes watching her work and grinned as she twisted on her heels. Seeing the black skinny jeans practically painted onto her legs and white v-neck covered with a denim jacket, Brittany slapped herself in the head.

With a laugh, Santana asked, "What?"

"I left the stuff out in the car." She walked through the room and paused next to Santana. Their eyes met and Brittany had to take an extra breath for the intensity of her gaze. Covering Santana's right cheek with her left hand, Brittany pulled her forward into a kiss. She trapped Santana's lower lip between hers and hummed into the sweetness. With hands that had fallen at her sides, Santana grabbed Brittany's hips and pulled their midsections together. Just as a warm tongue grazed her top lip, Brittany pulled away and grinned at Santana's flush face.

"You're distracting," she whispered.

Santana's eyes flicked open and revealed black irises. "You love me."

"I do." Brittany reached up and brushed her fingers through Santana's hair. "I'll be right back."

Slipping past her, Brittany escaped through the door and groaned as she went towards the backseat of the car. Everything with them was so confusing. One minute they could barely make eye contact with each other and the next they were right back to being themselves. It was frustrating. She slung the riding gear over her left arm and picked up the two helmets with a finger in each visor. Slamming the door with her foot, she wondered when the sudden insecurity of being around each other would relent and they could be normal again.

Walking back into the building, she saw Santana had jumped up onto a work bench and picked at her nails. Brittany wandered over and set the stuff down next to her on the table and stood in between her legs. Santana's attention stuttered as Brittany put the palms of her hands down against her legs and squeezed.

"We have to change," she mumbled as she slowly massaged Santana's thighs through the rough material of her jeans.

"Why don't," Santana said as she put her hands down on Brittany's shoulders and traced her fingers along her neck, "_you_ just change. And I'll watch from the sidelines."

Brittany chuckled lowly. "But that's not what I want." Her hands skirted higher until they were playing with the waistband of Santana's pants.

"What do you want?"

Brittany slid her fingers across the top of her jeans and played with the button as she stared at Santana. "To get you out of your clothes..." she popped the button open, "…and into other ones."

Santana laughed and leaned forward so her face was only an inch away from Brittany's. "I like half of that plan." She tilted her head to the side and kissed her neck, sucking gently.

Brittany let one hand drop to grip her hip and used the other to tug down her zipper. She guided Santana up with the hand on her hip and slowly pulled the jeans off, while enduring the assault on her neck which made it incredibly hard to stay focused. Santana kicked off her shoes as Brittany edged the jeans down, breaking away from her mouth and placing soft kisses down the inside of her leg as she went.

When they were off, she stood back up and kissed Santana on the mouth, hard. Santana's hands wrapped around her neck, but left hers free to push the jacket off her shoulders and tossed it further down the table. Her tongue pushed into Santana's mouth and controlled their kiss at the same time she grabbed the red pants from the counter. She broke their lips apart and kissed the corner of Santana's mouth before she bent down again to line the pants up with her legs. She knew they would be a little long as she slowly brought them up her smooth caramel legs, continuing to kiss along the skin, but figured she could roll the ankles to shorten them. Brittany came face to face with Santana's panting breaths, seeking her mouth out again. Hands pulled her neck back in and their lips reattached, sliding against each other hungrily. Santana whimpered when she broke away again.

"Are you wearing a tanktop," she asked, voice husky.

Santana's hands drug along her sides and shifted her closer. "Find out." She kissed her again.

Brittany picked up her hands from either side of Santana's newly clothed bottom and slid under her shirt at the base of her spine. When her fingers touched warm skin, Santana moaned into her mouth and locked her hands behind Brittany's back. Brittany tickled the skin there with light touches and smiled into the kiss when Santana twisted away from her hand.

Santana only needed to put on the shirt and protective pads, so Brittany slowly worked them down. Her kiss became less needy and more contained. Santana's hands stopped clutching her sides and rested down against her hips. Brittany pecked her lips a few more times and then completely pulled away.

Santana stared at her with hazy eyes and smiled. "You're distracting," she echoed. Making a show of looking at her legs, she mumbled, "How did these get here?"

Brittany laughed and picked up the red shirt. "The wind might be cold, so you can leave your shirt on. Just put this over it."

Santana took the shirt and as she put it on, Brittany leaned down and rolled the pants up so they left her feet uncovered. When she was satisfied with that job, she unbuttoned her own jeans—"Want me to help," Santana asked with a smirk—and dressed her bottom half with the yellow pants. Santana finished her own shirt and lifted the sweatshirt from Brittany's body, flinging it with her abandoned clothes. Brittany put on her shirt and made sure everything was snug to her body.

"You look cute." Santana looked over Brittany's outfit and smirked. "And kinda sexy."

"You have no idea how hot you look in that," Brittany said, doing the same to Santana in her clothes.

"I look hot in everything."

"True." Brittany pecked Santana's cheek. "Wait here a sec, okay?"

Santana nodded and Brittany went to the back wall to find them boots. She used her key to open the locker at the far end of the room inside the cabinet and pulled out both pairs of her boots. She remembered how Tom had to make an alteration to her locker so there wasn't a combination lock like everyone else's; she always ended up just forgetting it so he made the exception for her. Brittany closed the door and walked back over to Santana. She handed her one pair and dropped the others to the ground. After both were secured on her feet, she glanced up and saw Santana staring idly into the bottom of hers, grimacing.

"What?"

Santana's head tipped up and then went back down to the boots. "Does anyone else wear these?"

Brittany groaned. "No, San. Just put them on."

"You're sure?"

"My feet are small compared to all the guys here. Trust me, alright?"

"Fine," Santana huffed. She slid the boots on one at a time and Brittany strapped them up. Handing one helmet to Santana, she grabbed the other and held it against her hip.

Once they were all done, Brittany gave Santana her hand to get down off the bench and then let go. She walked over to her bike, dropping her helmet to the handlebar, and motioned for Santana to follow her outside as she wheeled it along. When they were outside, Brittany propped her bike against the kickstand and went back to close the building. She slammed the door shut and turned the key, locking it back up. Simple procedure took over her actions, imbued in her mind from the first few times Tom yelled at her for forgetting.

When she turned around, she saw Santana standing next to her bike and running her hands along the seat. Brittany watched her worriedly trace every crease and smiled; for some reason, vulnerable Santana was her favorite. It wasn't a sick desire for power or anything, but she loved seeing her walls down .She fell in love with the girl behind the walls, desperate to get out of her prison. Especially lately, when Santana had slowly started putting those defenses back up, Brittany needed to remember that girl.

"Ready," she asked as she walked up.

"Not really." Santana glanced up at her with a nervous smile.

"You trust my dancing, right?" Laughing at the obviousness of the question, Santana nodded. "If I had to lift you for something, you wouldn't worry I'd drop you or anything, right?"

"Yeah, B, but that's—"

"I'm good at this, just like I'm good at dancing. If you trust me in that then you can trust me with this."

Santana sighed, reluctantly agreeing. "Alright, I trust you."

"Put your helmet on," Brittany said and grabbed her own. She pushed it over her head and made sure it was tight on her head before checking Santana's. Even if she had to put up a front for Santana to feel comfortable, it didn't mean she wasn't going to check everything to make sure they were protected in case something bad happened. A lot of people brought friends to the track and let them ride without equipment. That ended with broken arms and ended friendships, or at least from the arguments Brittany had seen, troubled friendships. She loved Santana and wouldn't take a chance regardless of how sure of her talent she was.

Brittany climbed onto her bike and kick started it. The motor whizzed to life and she twisted the throttle a few times to make sure everything worked well. She inched forward and tugged on the brake to make sure it worked and then turned to Santana.

"You can get on any time," she yelled above the whir of the motor.

Santana approached from her left side and laid a hand down on Brittany's shoulder to support herself. Her leg slung over the bike and she settled on the seat behind her, about a foot too far back for Brittany's comfort. She reached back and hooked her arm around Santana's waist, hoisting her forward so their bodies were touching. When Santana's hands searched Brittany's shoulders for somewhere to hold on, Brittany reached back again and took both of them.

"Here, around my waist," she instructed. Santana's arms tightened around her middle and she felt the way her chest rose and fell unevenly against her back. "I'll go slow and we'll just go a few times around the track."

Santana nodded against her back and her hands gripped loosened a little. _'Good,'_ Brittany thought; she needed to relax to make her job easier.

True to her promise, Brittany eased them around the dirt track as slowly as possible. The second the bike moved, Santana screeched from behind her, so she gave her an encouraging pat on the thigh. Anytime a jump came up, Santana would tense, and Brittany casually avoided it; she was smart enough to not try that with someone on her backseat. She took advantage of when Santana's eyes were actually open to show her everything she did on the bike, for instruction purposes. The point of that day was for Santana to get on her own and do it by herself, without Brittany. She'd kept her pseudo ulterior motives to herself.

About halfway through the third lap, when Brittany had finally increased to s normal speed, Santana stopped hiding in her shoulders. She observed more of what Brittany was doing and asked questions about how things worked. She even made a joke about how enjoyable she was finding the vibrations from the seat. While that made Brittany's cheeks flush for all the wrong reasons when she should have been focusing, she was glad to see Santana had relaxed enough to enjoy it. That was another point of the trip; she wanted to just spend time with her girlfriend without all of the crap they'd been dealing with popping up.

After the fourth lap, Brittany drove them back over to the equipment shed and killed her engine. Santana hopped off and waited patiently for Brittany to do the same.

"How was that?"

Santana tugged her helmet off and smiled, bright flashy teeth set in a perfect grin. "Really fun. Do I get my own now?"

Brittany laughed and took her own helmet off. "Yeah, but I want to ride with you a few times first, okay?"

Santana shook her head playfully and smirked. "Wait, did you say you want to ride me?"

Brittany shook her head but couldn't hold in another chuckle. "Well, yeah, but not right this minute."

"Damn." She clicked her tongue and looked away.

Santana moved to climb on Brittany's bike, but she stopped her. "Wait, I want to get a practice bike."

"Why?"

She leaned from foot to foot and then said quietly, "Don't get mad, but I don't want you to wreck and screw it up."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Rude."

Brittany grinned at her and kissed her cheek as she passed.

Xx

Santana had been paying enough attention to Brittany's riding technique to at least get comfortable on her own bike. Brittany was sitting on hers a few feet ahead and waited for her to make a move. After five or six laps around the track, always avoiding jumps except for the one time when they were forced to bail to the ground on Brittany's order, she felt comfortable enough to ride by herself. Brittany seemed adamant enough for her to try it out and she was always up for the challenge. Brittany beamed in pride and success when she suggested that she was ready.

The yellow-plated dirt bike still rumbled beneath her from their practice runs and all she had to do was release the brake to start moving. Getting to that point had been the problem. Even if she technically had control of their previous ride, Brittany always sat right behind her, providing support and protection. She'd already fell once and knew what to expect in the event of another, but there would be no one there to right her wrong when she messed up. Only she could fix the damage she might create, alone.

"Come on, San. It's not a big deal. If you don't want to do it for long, we can quit and go home," Brittany's voice drifted loud enough for her to hear it over the combined mechanical noises.

She nodded, head heavy from the helmet, and lightly eased off the brake. The bike inched forward underneath her and she clamped down on it again. Shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried again. This time she gave a little bit of throttle and she moved forward at a slow speed. Brittany rumbled behind her and stayed far enough back for her to watch Santana's slow progression.

It wasn't much different than riding with Brittany on the seat behind her and she gained a little more confidence. She used it to twist the throttle a little more and rode more forcefully down the straight. She couldn't see Brittany behind her, but knowing and hearing her motor whirring kept her moving ahead. There was so much to focus on, moving through her first few turns, that she didn't even need to remind herself the girl still followed her.

The ride was exhilarating, to say the least. As her actions became more sure, they also became more playful. Brittany must've sensed that because she sped ahead and weaved through obstacles, to make it more entertaining for herself (Santana figured). _She_ even tried a few of the less threatening ones and successfully made it through unscathed.

Santana understood why Brittany loved it so much. She didn't have to think about anything else other than exactly what she was doing. If she did, she'd screw up. She had the sneaking suspicion that Brittany brought her there for more of a reason than a simple celebration. Brittany wanted them to be relaxed and on the same page when they often spent days on shaky ground with each other. She wanted it too. Breadstix the night before was a way of revisiting their pleasant past.

On one of the particularly tight turns, Brittany made a show of cutting diagonally across Santana's path. She'd been doing it for most of their ride, but it distracted her enough to clip the edge of a hay bail and sent her tumbling to the ground. The bike skid out from underneath her and she rolled against the dirt ground in a mess of limbs and dust.

She heard her name yelled and the crash of Brittany's bike against the ground. Before she knew it, she was being turned over and all of her limbs inspected by a thorough hand, patting insistently at her arms and legs. Brittany kept mumbling "are you okay" over and over while she checked for broken bones and sat upright at the sound of Santana's laughter.

"I'm fine, B. Really." When she tried to sit up—a rush of blood sent her head reeling—Brittany whined and tried to force her back down. "Stop, Britts. I'm good."

"Does anything feel broken? Are you bleeding?"

Santana shook her thick helmet back and forth, grateful Brittany had been urgent about protective wear. "No, I'm good. My ass hurts though."

Brittany stared at her and she could see piercing blue eyes studying her tediously. She made a face as best she could with most of her features covered and chuckled.

"I'm really fine, Brittany. I'm fine."

Brittany's forehead hardened and she shook it back and forth. "Is your ass broken?"

"Maybe," Santana said thoughtfully. "Wanna check it for me?"

Brittany laughed. "How about after we get all of this stuff back in the shed and change?"

"I'm cool with that."

* * *

><p>Santana's ass wasn't broken. Or at least from what Brittany could tell after they undressed.<p>

As she put away the boots, Santana stood at the other end of the room and finished getting her jacket back on. She walked up from behind and put both arms around Santana's waist, squeezing lightly.

"Are you good," Brittany asked, kissing Santana's throat.

"I'm amazing. This was actually a lot of fun." Her palms rested down against the material of Brittany's sweatshirt over her arms.

"I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to bring you here a lot last year."

Santana turned around in her arms and put her fingers on Brittany's chest. "Can I ask why?"

Brittany nodded. "I thought it would help us figure stuff out, when you were scared about your feelings for me. I kinda wanted the same thing today, with this weird thing that's going on with us. I figured if this worked for me last year, maybe it could work now."

Santana frowned and leaned forward to rest her forehead against Brittany's chin. "Will you let me be honest with you, just for a second?"

"I like when you tell me the truth, San, you know that."

"I know. This just might be a little intense."

"I can handle it."

"I feel like you don't care if we're apart next year. You're so okay with the fact that you might not graduate and if I were you I'd be freaking out." She kissed Brittany's collarbone and sighed into the skin. "I can't even handle thinking about you being here and me being somewhere else next year, Britt. It hurts too much."

Brittany raised her arms and pulled Santana into a hug. Santana's hands went around her back and palmed her shoulder blades, fingertips digging in. She buried her face in Santana's hair and breathed out.

"I do care. I'm just as worried as you are, but I'm doing everything I can to make that not happen. This is my fault and I'm trying to fix it. We do things differently, Santana. You're a freak out person and I'm a keep-it-to-myself person. That doesn't mean I don't care. I've been waiting so long to have you to myself and now we have something physically separating us. It's scary."

The heavy breaths against her neck meant Santana was probably crying and she just held tighter. It would never stop confusing her that Santana was the more insecure of the two of them. She wanted to take all of the worry away and reassure her, but she couldn't find the right words. Everything she thought to say had already been said, in more ways than one.

"I love you, Santana. I always have and I always will." That didn't seem like enough. "Even if we have a hundred states between us, that won't change." That felt more right. "It'll never change. Plus we don't even know for sure, yet. I could be in the same apartment as you next year, sleeping in the same bed, eating the same food. Stealing the oreos from your ice cream when you aren't looking. We don't know yet. Let's just stop worrying so much."

Santana sniffled and then pulled back. Her eyes were bloodshot and wet, tears still stealing down her cheeks as she brushed them away. "Worrying out loud," she corrected. "I'm always thinking about it."

"So am I. But talking about it just makes us sad. You do what you have to do and I'll do what I have to do."

"As long as we do it together."

Brittany smiled. "We're always together."

"Forever."

Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana chastely. "Of course."

xx

After locking up the shed and then making their way out of the practice field, Brittany got on the highway to drive them home. The late afternoon turned to dusk in front of her eyes as she drove, and Santana hummed a tune softly in the passenger seat.

A few times, when lucky enough to be invited over, she'd heard the track Santana recorded in Rachel's basement and recognized the same song, with lyrics. The sweet, soulful melody wasn't unfamiliar for her ears. It had always been something she'd heard Santana hum in the Cheerio's shower or under her breath as she worked on homework. She'd never known there were lyrics to go along with it; Santana hadn't ever shared them. Maybe there weren't ever words to go along with it.

Either way, the vigor with which Santana played around with the song then had been previously unmatched. There was something new about the melody, something refreshed or energetic. Brittany listened along as best she could and tried to place the words alongside the music reverberating deep in Santana's throat. It was hard considering she'd ever only heard it twice, but she tried.

"You missed the exit," Santana's voice cut through her concentration softly. She hadn't even noticed the humming stopped. "Are you okay?"

"I love your song. It sounds so pretty." Brittany looked over and saw Santana glance away to hide her obvious blush.

"It's not good."

"It's wonderful," Brittany mumbled, "will you sing it for me?"

Santana shook her head softly.

"Why not?" She returned her eyes to the road.

"It's not ready. I will, but not until it's solid."

Brittany smiled victoriously. "Promise?"

From somewhere she didn't see, Santana's hand grabbed her own and linked their pinkies together. "I pinky promise."

"You can't break that." She chanced a glance over at Santana again and caught piercing black eyes staring at her.

"I won't."

Brittany unlatched their pinkies and threaded her fingers through Santana's.

"Good."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: this chapter was a huge metaphor, because metaphors are important.**

**Thanks for reading :)  
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	48. i hate missing you

**IMPORTANT**

**A/N: I just wanted to get your guys attention because I have some things to say about the story over all. Some people have asked about it and I want you all to know that canon is essentially going to be gone for the rest of the story. Aside from a few things: Regionals, Nationals, Rachel/Kurt and NYADA, a little more of the wedding and yes, Quinn. Everything else is going to get resolved in different ways. That being said, I want to inform you that this chapter is not a new idea. I had this planned from around the eighth or ninth chapter and I hope you won't hate me too much.  
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**This chapter is Heart and I feel bad for making it not as perfect as the actual show made it, but they have their ideas and I have mine :)  
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**Oh, two more things. One I'm going to answer reviews at the end this time and two my Blaine is a senior. I don't think I've ever specifically said it one way or another but I am now. He was always a senior in my head. Thanks! Have fun!  
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* * *

><p>'<em>Is this how everyone else feels,'<em> Brittany wondered as she ran down the hallway. She was ecstatic. No, more than ecstatic, completely enthralled by her own success. First period math had advantages: falling asleep was more tolerable, her worst class ended the quickest, and most importantly, she found out how well, or not, she'd done on tests early in the day.

The test she took a week earlier awaited her arrival on the desk before she even sat down. She'd almost forgotten it even existed by then. Approaching it, her heart pumped anxiously into every limb; seeing the turned-over, stapled, blue sheets of paper terrified her. Even if she still had months to raise her grades, every test counted. So, when she flipped it over her heart pounded even harder.

A fat, embellished '_B'_ sat the top of the page, filled in thick. She could tell her teacher had gone over it a few times; maybe to display how impressed she had been.

The physical leap might have been too much, but Brittany didn't care.

She'd felt pride before: winning competitions and stuff like that, but something felt different about that grade. All the success came straight from her brain onto the paper. Other people had helped, sure, but they weren't there to hold her hand. She'd done it on her own.

That's what led to her charging down the hallway in search of someone to tell. She had particularly one person in mind, but she didn't know where to find her. They had a glee meeting, she could have waited, but the information bubbled under the surface, ready to explode on innocent bystanders.

'_Finally,'_ she mentally yelled when she found her standing at the water fountain outside the choir room.

"Quinn!"

Quinn turned around with a confused smile, most likely because of her urgent tone, and waved.

"What's up, Britt?"

She almost got caught up in admiring the green scarf around Quinn's throat before she remembered the bunched paper in her hands. She held it up in front of her face, under her nose with two hands, and bounced on her toes in excitement.

Quinn's eyes traced the paper until she found the grade at the top and her eyes widened. Her smile stretched to show her teeth and she lunged forward to hug her. Brittany returned it and even encouraged Quinn to bounce along with her.

"Brittany! You got a B!"

"I know," Brittany yelled back, "I can't believe I did it."

Hair tickled her neck as Quinn shook her head. "I knew you could. I knew you were getting it when we studied." She made a 'gahh' sound and squeezed Brittany tighter. "Britt!"

Stepping out of the embrace, Brittany gave them a foot of space, but kept her hold on Quinn's arm. "Thank you. God, Quinn, I don't know if I could have done it without you."

Quinn's head dipped and she stared at her feet. "You could have. I just helped a tiny bit."

Brittany shoved her shoulder playfully. "Give yourself more credit."

"Whatever," she said through a laugh, "congrats, Britt. This is all you."

The warning bell rang above their heads and Brittany looked around. She could see Rachel, Santana, Mike, and Tina coming down the hallway towards them and smiled. They were all laughing together and it seemed like Santana had been teasing Tina for something. It was adorable watching their faces scrunch up in jolting giggles. Quinn's voice snapped her back to their conversation.

"We should celebrate," she told her.

Brittany's smile shifted as her forehead creased. "Celebrate?"

"You got your first good grade in math. That's something worth celebrating in my opinion."

The other kids were approaching, and she wondered if anyone else would be invited to the little celebration. Santana could have celebrated with them if her schedule hadn't already filled up trying to meet the deadline for her song submission. It had to be in by the end of the next week and she'd spent most of the days in between at Rachel's. If Brittany dared to ask, she knew Santana would have dropped it instantly. But then she'd have to endure the guilt of keeping her from something she needed to do and she didn't really want anyone else there anyway; she missed hanging out with Quinn for a reason other than school.

Quinn must've sensed her indecision and added, "Nothing big. Just you and I. We can get a movie and just hang out."

"Can we get a pizza?"

Quinn's laughter bounced through the small alcove where the water fountain sat. "Yes, we can get pizza."

"Pizza with," Brittany tapped her finger to her chin, "chocolate on it?"

Quinn didn't even try to hold back a grimace. "That's disgusting."

"It's my celebration!"

"That doesn't mean we have to eat gross food!"

Brittany pouted, full lips and quivering chin. She knew Quinn would know she did it on purpose, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work.

"You're exhausting and we're _only _making the plans," Quinn groaned. "Fine, pizza with chocolate on it. But I don't think they do that, so we might have to do it ourselves. Also, that pouting crap shouldn't work on me anymore."

Brittany laughed and patted her on the shoulder. "You're just too easy."

"Who's easy," Santana asked, appearing on her side. She kissed Brittany's cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Brittany leaned into her and smirked. "Quinn."

She felt Quinn's glare burn into the side of her head. Mike and Tina laughed, wrapped up in each others arms. The only person who hadn't made her presence known yet was Rachel; she silently stood on the other side of the group, eyes flitting around nervously. Brittany could tell she had something on her mind, something important.

"Sophomore year kinda proved that," Santana teased, surprisingly lighthearted given the subject of the joke. Quinn rolled her eyes at the dig that only made Mike, Tina, and Brittany laugh harder.

"I can attest that fact is actually highly untrue. From…personal experience."

All eyes turned to Rachel on the opposite side of the water fountain. Mouths hung slack, eyes were wide, and most of all they were speechless. Surprisingly, Santana hadn't even cracked a joke, or laughed. Aside from the normal hallway noises, there was silence. Brittany covered her mouth with a hand, trying to stifle her reflexive laughter.

Her smug smirk long from gone, Rachel laughed nervously. "Bad joke?"

Quinn was the first to speak. Or rather, yell.

"Rachel!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "What? They all know." The smugness returned as she said, "Actually, I guess it's a surprise I know Tina knows, considering you never told me."

Brittany choked on her laughter seeing Quinn's metaphorical tail between her legs, scolded and whipped by a girl who wasn't even her girlfriend anymore.

"T-that was," Quinn stuttered, looking at everybody, "you were asleep."

"Not an excuse, Quinn."

Still silent, Mike and Tina slid past the four of them and entered the choir room. Santana started smiling around the time Quinn started poorly defending herself and Brittany had to smack her on the thigh subtly to wipe the smirk from her face. When she turned to look at her girlfriend, she suddenly remembered the paper in her hands. _'Seriously, why do I keep forgetting this is here?'_

"Santana! Guess what?"

Santana jumped, completely caught off guard. "Jesus, Britt. What?"

She held up the paper and handed it to her. Santana looked over it similar to how Quinn did, but then her gaze shot straight to the top. Brittany's smile grew as she saw the realization dawn on Santana's features.

"B-Brittany! Look! You got a B!"

Brittany laughed and lazed her head to the left. "I know, S, I read it a few times."

Before Santana could hand the paper back, Rachel snatched it out of her hand. Brittany didn't care, it just meant her hands were open to accept Santana's hug. She loved the way Santana bound them together, all air escaping between them, trapped, but in a really good way. Her, Santana, and the knowledge that she succeeded; the connection flowed from one stitch of fabric into the next, bouncing back and forth between them. She should have told Santana first; the moment didn't even compare to before.

Short-lived, but awe-filling, their arms fell and she stepped away. Santana reattached one hand to her waist and smiled. Dark eyes, ones Brittany couldn't ever decide black or brown, filled with complete adoration. She could see something else shimmering around the edges: love.

"Congrats, Britt. I am so prou—"

A shrill squeak and a distinctive growl surrounded the back of her head as a cloud of pink surrounded the front. Some of the bright flakes slid coldly on her cheek as the slushie splashed against Santana's face. Her jacket was soaked through, almost purple because it mixed obscenely with the Cheerio's red. _'Coach is gonna be pissed,'_ Brittany thought first, before twisting her head to see the culprit. The brave, soon-to-be-dead culprit (by Coach Sylvester's hands, not her own).

"What the fuck," Santana bellowed, sloughing the dense ice from her face. Brittany caught her shiver and stepped closer to provide some warmth.

"Enjoy the Valentine's present, Lesbos." A tall, underclassmen football player slid by innocuously, smug smirk plastered on his acne-ridden skin. Brittany considered lunging at him, but his size threw her off. Plus, Santana had been pretty much stunned into silence since his insult caused more whiplash than the slushie hurled at her face, and she didn't want to leave her side.

Before she could think of another solution, a thick whizzing past her head caused her to duck. She saw the kid stumble forward, his mouth contorting in a garbled gasp, and a heavy book falling to the ground. She and Santana turned around at the same time and went first to Quinn, who's mouth hung open in shock.

Rachel however, stood firm and planted, her eyebrow lifted along with a corner of her lip, pulled back in a surprised smirk. Her hand was still in the air from where the book left her hand. She shook her head and then laughed softly.

"Adding good marksmanship to my _long_ list talents."

Their attention snapped back as the guy steadied himself and turned towards them with a menacing glare. He marched over, fists curling at his sides. _Jim_, Brittany read from the front of his letterman jacket.

"It'd be in your best interest to _not _try that again," he snarled at the four of them.

A hand pushed Brittany aside and Rachel strode through. "_Why_," she snapped, "as if throwing an iced beverage into some unsuspecting person's face isn't enough of an assault, you'll throw a few punches at girls half, and in my case, a third of your size?"

Brittany watched him slide backwards only enough to get out of Rachel's arm's length. She chuckled internally, picturing Rachel actually hitting someone. Imaginary-Rachel bounced off and hurt her own hand.

"Shut up, Berry."

Brittany felt Quinn flinch behind her and glanced at Santana for support.

"Do you have a problem with these two," she motioned behind her as she talked, "that would result in a physical attack, most likely involving you in a felony known as a hate crime?" Rachel stepped forward cordially. "Or would you rather just be a woman-beater? People respect that just as _much_, James."

In an angry voice, he said, "Jim. Not James."

"I'm sorry. I can't _possibly _hear someone so low to the ground."

Quinn snickered behind Brittany and she couldn't hold in her own little chuckle.

"You're lucky I'm the one who stepped up for this little talk, _James,_" Rachel spat, more formal than intimidating. "I'm sure Santana here would have beaten the living hell out of you, Quinn probably has already planned at least three ways for you to disappear and never be found again, and well Brittany," she stumbled verbally, "w-well I'm sure she could have made you feel really guilty. I mean _really,_ guilty."

"Is there a point to all this," he asked.

Rachel laughed and slid up to his side. "My point is, James, you should watch who you threaten. And a change in that narrow minded view on life would do you some good. Also, while I plan on informing Noah Puckerman of this exchange," his eyes widened in terror, "allow me to leave you with a parting gift of my own."

With that, she kneed him in the crotch and smirked at her handiwork as he fell over. She wheeled around and walked back over to them, innocent smile on her face.

"Santana, we should get you cleaned off before all of this stains."

Santana glanced between Quinn and Brittany, bewildered expressions all around. "O-okay, Berry."

Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana, avoiding the mess of slushie, and started to pull her away when Quinn's voice stopped them.

"Rachel, you can just go ahead into practice, you've," she laughed disbelievingly, "obviously done enough already." When the girl started to protest, Quinn stopped her again, "No, go."

"Thanks," Santana shouted over their shoulders and they turned away. When Brittany didn't hear Quinn's footsteps, she glanced back again.

Quinn had her eyes on Rachel and seemed like she was searching for words. What finally came out though didn't make much sense to her considering everything that had happened.

"Cute dress."

* * *

><p>Santana, Brittany and Rachel returned to the choir room fifteen minutes later. Quinn had already claimed her seat in the far back corner, next to Kurt and Blaine. The boys were debating plans for their actual Valentine's date the following day. Sugar had offered up invitations to Breadstix for a party and they all talked amongst themselves whether they'd actually go or not.<p>

Quinn would be there, along with Sam and Mercedes, to "consummate her return to normalcy" (Sam's words, not hers) and to the newly formed god squad. She figured it would be a good start to getting back into her religion(if it had ever even left her), and it might've helped her develop friendships with the only girl who took in her in during a dark time of need and the boy who's life she repeatedly screwed with to keep up appearances. She felt like she owed it to them and herself. They planned on performing for the party under Sugar's request and that ensured her attendance.

The three girls walked in just as Artie finished an unprompted serenade for Sugar; Brittany and Santana occupying empty chairs near Quinn and Rachel heading in the opposite direction. Quinn pushed back the instinctive repulsion of watching her plop down in Finn's lap, greeting him warmly and explaining her absence. Or that's what Quinn guessed. From the insecurity on Rachel's face, she started to second guess her assumption.

Mr. Schuester took to the front of the room and clapped his hands together familiarly, applauding Artie and the boys for their performance. His enthusiasm for the old song and dance (pun very much intended) never faded and Quinn had to commend him for that. It was funny to her that he still got excited over every little song.

"So you know the assignment, right? Love songs. Make 'em powerful guys. We need all the practice we can get with Regional's in just a few weeks."

Just as he was about to start talking again, and maybe clap his hands together one more time, Finn stood up and interrupted him.

"Mr. Schuester, we need to tell everyone something."

Rachel stood then, looking frozen and unsure. To Quinn, something felt strange; Finn took her hand in his and pulled them closer together. Something felt familiar. It was his announcement face. His smile curved over and her stomach dropped. She knew what it meant before the words left his mouth.

"We're engaged!" He beamed at Rachel and then back at the club.

Quinn could've thrown up. It was the National's kiss all over again. Only Rachel seemed more likely to push him away. Something was off.

No one said anything. Even Mr. Schuester stood motionless to the side of them, mouth hung slightly open in confusion. _'You're the teacher, do something!'_ Quinn willed the man to take some of that enthusiasm and create a powerful reproach to the news. She wished for someone, anyone, to say something. Rachel's voice, which she doubted would be as strong or convincing as Finn's, would save her further grief.

Her mouth opened finally when no one else's did. "You're not seriously doing this are you?" She wondered if anyone could tell the question was directed at Rachel alone. She wished Finn understood that.

"We understand some people may not agree with this decision," he stated, "but we've decided it. Together."

Always speaking in surprising situations, although the more she thought about it his interference made sense, Kurt piped in, "You're not ready for this, Finn. Nor are you, Rachel. This is idiocy at its finest." Quinn mentally nodded along, grateful for the unprompted support.

She felt Santana's eyes on her before she glanced downward. A hand was sliding into hers from the side and Brittany squeezed once to make sure she knew they were there. Her eyes weren't watering, but she knew they'd start the second she left the room.

"Have you really thought about this?" Mr. Schuester took a lead, bearing down on them. "You're…so young."

"We're ready," Rachel said, slight and teetering between feet. Quinn shook her head absently; Rachel wasn't one to be unsure of anything that important.

"You're not—"

"If you don't want to be involved with our wedding then so be it. Quinn, Kurt, I would love if you could look past everything and support us. I want everyone _important_ to me in this wedding. You owe me that, as friends."

Quinn heard Santana mutter under her breath, "Selfish." Brittany squeezed Quinn's fingers again. Her lungs claimed heavy breaths, quiet enough to keep her composure, but strong enough to consider walking out. Their girls' night seemed more and more needed as the day went on.

* * *

><p>Santana watched Quinn's head fall against the locker a few more times. She had propped her back up more than once even though she continued the action, eliciting loud bashes of metal in the hallway.<p>

"Quinn! Knock it off, idiot," she scolded, trying to force her hand between Quinn's head and the locker to cushion the impact.

"What's the point? She's marrying that idiot and I have front row tickets to watch. Maybe she'll hand me the bouquet before she says her vows, how splendid." Her head fell against the soft plush of Santana's hand.

"I thought you wanted her to be happy," Santana said, implying accusation on purpose to get under Quinn's skin. She'd sat by long enough watching them dance around each other. It was high time for her to stir the shit a little.

Quinn flipped her head and glared. "I meant with _me._" Santana mentally high-fived herself for correctly anticipating Rachel's misgiving about Quinn's intentions. Q was her girl and she knew how she'd react to almost every situation. "How does no one understand that when someone tells you they want you to be happy about relationship crap, they mean as long as you're with them in the end? Not to mention she kissed me after I told her that."

"Wait, she kissed you?" _'New information!'_ she thought giddily.

Quinn's blush caught up with her words and she turned away. "Yeah, actually I kinda kissed her. But she let me. I figured she understood what I meant and that's why she let me kiss her. Not because I wanted her to marry Finn."

"She heard what she wanted to hear," Santana said. "You gave her permission."

"But I _didn't,_" Quinn whined.

Santana lifted a hand and rubbed Quinn's shoulder-blades over her flowery dress. She wished there was a way to fix everything. Finn Hudson hadn't been getting gold stars in her book for a long time and crossing Quinn stepped over the line, even if he didn't know he did it.

Quinn shook out her hair and ran her fingers through it brusquely. "What about you? What's going on with your life?" Her interest peaked. "Did you figure out a plan for Valentine's Day with Brittany?"

She froze, realizing she'd let it slip her mind to plan something. Wouldn't they just hang out and be a little more sappy than normal? If Quinn thought a gesture on Valentine's Day for Brittany was expected, did that mean Brittany told her she wanted something from Santana? She had at most a few hours to decide; the rest of school and the hour before she had to head to Rachel's. They were putting final touches on background vocals that night so she couldn't let Rachel make executive decisions without her there.

"You don't have anything do you?"

Santana gripped her temple and covered her eyes with one hand. "I forgot about it. God fucking damn it."

"Watch your mouth," Quinn chastised. Newly reformed Quinn showed at last; Santana knew she was doomed to show again. "And you could always take her to Sugar's thing at Breadstix."

"That's not really thoughtful though."

Quinn shrugged. "So find a way to make it more thoughtful."

Santana tugged the tan hoodie Brittany had given her earlier closer to her body and tapped her feet trying to think of something. "Are you going to be there?"

"Yes, but I'm not planning anything for you. The God Squad is performing."

"Christ, Q." She snickered at her own joke, she loved riling Quinn up. "Is the bible thumping parade going to sing hymnals as couples desecrate booths and restrooms?" Her insides flared unconsciously remembering her awful encounter in the bathroom with Brittany years earlier. She still glared at all curly-haired, emerald garmented hostesses who seated her. At least _they'd_ forgotten about it.

In an incensed tone, Quinn retorted, "We're taking requests, Santana. Stop acting like a child and trying to piss me off to distract from finding a surprise for Brittany."

With a sudden rush of inspiration, she grabbed Quinn around the neck and hugged her quick, not holding long enough for the other girl to even consider offering one in return.

"I totally just did!"

* * *

><p>"Your car smells weird," Brittany told Santana on their way home from school. Something pungent filled the space between them and she focused to figure out what it was. The scent was definitely familiar, but indistinguishable at first.<p>

Offended by the comment, Santana flipped the hair she had extracted from her ponytail when they got in the car over one shoulder. "Like _what?_"

Brittany sniffed. "I don't know, not like it normally smells." Without warning she leaned over and sniffed Santana's shoulder.

Santana chuckled and shoved her away with one hand gently. "Quit."

"I'm just trying to figure it out. It's not you by the way."

"Awesome," Santana replied. "Just let it go, you don't have to be in here much longer. We're close to your house."

Brittany wished that meant they both were getting out of the car but knew better. Santana had work to do and she had plans with Quinn. But that didn't mean she didn't want to pull her girlfriend up the stairs and violate the open-door policy while her parents were still at work. She wondered how long Santana had before she needed to go to Rachel's.

Santana must have been watching her deliberate and check the clock a few times trying to calculate how long they would need. "I can't, Britt."

Brittany groaned. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to think about it."

Santana smirked and reached her hand over to rest it against the smooth skin on Brittany's thigh. "What were you thinking about?"

Brittany put the tips of her fingers on Santana's hand and slid them across the back of it as soft as she possibly could. The way the muscle in Santana's arm twitched made her smirk and apply slightly more pressure. "You," she punctuated her word with a press of her index finger. "Me," her ring finger did the same thing. She looked up and saw Santana staring down at their hands.

She whispered, "What about us?"

Brittany nodded towards the road and Santana's eyes flashed up to see she was about to pass Brittany's street. She wheeled the car around the turn at a high speed and Brittany clenched her hand. She saw Santana's panic and lifted her hand to kiss it softly. Santana's fingers twirled around hers and slid them together.

A minute later and they were parked at the curb in front of her house. She didn't want to get out and the firm hold Santana had on her meant she didn't want to leave either.

"I should just ditch Berry and stay with you."

Brittany ignored the way her heart leapt and shook her head. "No, you have to go. I'm hanging out with Quinn anyways."

Santana stared at their clasped hands and smiled softly. "If I didn't know you were working on homework, I'd think you two were hooking up with how much you hang out together."

Brittany felt like someone burned her and she frowned. "If I didn't know you were working on your song, I'd think the same thing about you and Rachel." The car smelled like vanilla; she finally realized it.

Santana's head snapped up and her smile disappeared. "Britt, I thought we talked about that."

"Well don't say stuff like that about Quinn then."

"It was a joke," Santana said hotly.

"It wasn't funny."

Santana sighed and tried to lift her hand from Brittany's but she wouldn't let it go.

"Stop," she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just frustrated."

Santana twisted her body and wrenched across the middle of the car. She caught Brittany behind the neck with one hand and kissed her. Their lips moved together; Santana crushed her with powerful advances where she'd pull away roughly, rushing back in to never let the pressure lighten. Brittany's hand went to her own jacket on Santana's shoulders and pulled it forward to show her she didn't want the kiss to end. They could stay in Santana's car like that for the rest of the night for all she cared. Responsibilities be damned when Santana's mouth was on hers like that.

Santana slipped back and inch and panted against her lips. "I don't _want_ anyone other than you." She kissed her again, lips tugging Brittany's bottom between them. "That's not ever going to change."

"I'm sorry," Brittany whispered, kissing a lot softer than any of Santana's before. "I know that, I'm sorry."

Santana kissed her again, using her tongue to pry Brittany's mouth open. Their tongues slid together for a minute and then Santana leaned back again, licking along her bottom lip in the process. "Don't be sorry. I know you must miss me, because I miss you just as much. But soon this won't matter and we can spend all of our time together again. Don't forget I have you tomorrow all to myself."

"What about school?"

"I mean tomorrow night," Santana amended, kissing Brittany's bottom lip. "I have a surprise for you."

Brittany perked up. Her lips pulled into a tight smile. "What kind of surprise?"

"One you don't get to know about yet."

"That's every surprise."

Santana laughed. "Then stop asking what they are."

Pouting with her full bottom lip, Brittany agreed, "Fine."

Santana kissed her pout. "That's not going to work. I've built up an immunity for it."

"Are you sure about that?" Brittany forced her eyes to water just a tiny bit and stared Santana down.

Obviously uneasy and flustered, Santana surprised her and pushed the car door open. "Stop it! I don't want to ruin anything. Go, get ready for Quinn's."

Brittany wiped a rogue tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye and giggled. "I'm so much better at this than you."

"Just go, you goof." She kissed Brittany one more time and sat back in her own seat. "I love you."

Brittany stood up and slammed the car door shut. She leaned down on the window frame and smiled. "I love you too."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Santana pulled into the neighbor's driveway and turned the car around, heading towards Rachel's house. When she realized that, Brittany's smile faltered and she forced herself to turn back toward the house. She needed to get ready to go to Quinn's and maybe find a couple bottles of wine for them to drink. From the days both of them had, Rachel's announcement and the football player in the hallway, they needed it.

* * *

><p>Quinn wandered around her room, tweaking and adjusting everything to make sure it looked neat and tidy. She knew Brittany wouldn't care, but it was a habit she'd picked up from watching her mom entertain guests on a nightly basis when her dad brought home clients and associates. Her preparations were hardly last minute, but everything still felt disorderly. She figured it might've been an internal chaos rather than an external one, still reeling from the news Rachel dropped on the club earlier.<p>

Sure, when she told Rachel to do what made her happy, she meant it. But not when that led her to marry in her teens to an oafish boy who couldn't remember her birthday let alone provide a stable home for their "family."

Quinn cringed at the word.

She'd been playing it tough, staying distant and burying her feelings. When Rachel started to come around more and more, she tried to stay away more and more. She skipped a few lunches, opting to study or make more practice tests for Brittany. Even in glee club she tried to stay on the opposite side of the room.

Her life had started to level itself out. On the rebound from her emotional upheaval between Beth and losing Rachel to Finn, she'd owned up to her mistakes. A little humility and atonement got her life on track again and she felt herself turning over a new leaf. Everything started to feel right again.

Until that damn announcement in glee club. It was like a switch flipped in her brain and she went into a Rachel-fueled mode again. She hadn't felt anger boiling in her chest for the longest time, but for the last few hours she moved in a blind fury. Every time she saw Finn she wanted to pummel his face in for putting Rachel in such a horrible position. Did he even have any plans for his future? If Finn ended up being the thing that stunted Rachel's passage into college or to Broadway, she'd surely murder him.

Or something equally dramatic. Rachel had rubbed off on her in a very short amount of time.

A few uncharacteristic taps at her door alerted her attention and she traipsed across the room. She pulled it open and saw Brittany, broad smile and bounding forward for a hug. Her breath caught with the force of impact and she laughed through stuttered breaths. Her hands met a backpack filled with hard items she didn't recognize.

"Hi!"

"Hey, Britt."

They let go and she led Brittany into the room. Brittany followed her own path and dropped her bag to the floor, a little too cautiously in Quinn's observation, and bounced onto the bed. They both were in similar clothing, sweats and t-shirts from various cheerleading camps they'd attended together. Quinn thought about how funny it would have been if they accidentally had chosen the same one. The freeness Brittany inhabited course through her dense body and she followed her to the bed, jumping down next to her. They settled next to each other each, propped up on an arm with their elbows digging into the bed. It felt very middle school to Quinn and she smiled. _'Exactly what I needed,'_ she thought releasing a straining gust of air from her lungs.

"How are you," Brittany asked, immediately diving into the topic Quinn wanted to discuss least.

"Can we not talk about that just yet?"

Brittany nodded and pinched Quinn's side. "Of course not, but I'm here if you want to."

"I do," she said, "just not yet."

Brittany smiled in agreement and jumped up from the bed. "Well, I have just the thing that will ease that conversation."

Quinn watched her kneel next to her bag on the floor and unzip it. She extracted two bottles of red wine that she guessed Brittany had taken from her parent's cabinet. Brittany handed her one and she laughed, reading over the label to see she what she'd picked.

"Are we each drinking one," she teased.

Brittany grinned and shook her head. "No boozy, we're sharing. But I figured we could have two in case we wanted to drink a little more than usual."

Quinn detected the underlying implication that Brittany had something to get off her chest too. With recent events, it wasn't hard to figure out what it had to do with.

"Alright, later though. We can eat first and find a movie to watch."

"Did you order the pizza yet?"

Quinn grinned, seeing the eager anticipation and glad she made the call before Brittany showed up. "It should be here soon."

Brittany climbed to her feet and grabbed Quinn's arm. "Let's go wait in the living room."

"Okay."

They left Quinn's room and went down the hallway towards the front of the house. A bay window opened up on the front lawn and they could watch for the pizza man to show up from the couch on the opposite side of the room. Quinn's house had lost some of it's frigidity when her Dad moved out. She didn't go into rooms wary of what she might accidentally touch. Brittany however still walked around like she'd break something. Years of admonishment dictated her actions in the Fabray house and Quinn wanted to demonstrate that she didn't have to tip toe around anymore, so she plopped down on the leather sofa and stretched her legs out across it.

Brittany grinned at the lackadaisical position and sat down at the opposite end on top of Quinn's feet. She fidgeted until she was comfortable and Quinn chuckled watching her twist and turn.

"Comfortable?"

Brittany glanced over at her. "Yep. You?"

"Mhm," Quinn hummed. "So, how are you feeling about the test?"

Brittany's face almost split with how wide her smile was. "Incredible! I still can't believe it."

Quinn nodded a few times and pursed her lips. "I've got mad tutoring _skills,_" she stretched the word out playfully and saw Brittany's head shaking at her.

"You cannot pull that off," Brittany teased through a laugh.

She feigned offense and put a hand on her chest. In a more cordial voice, she asked, "Are you doubting my mad skills?"

Brittany laughed. "I'm doubting your ability to use the word _skills_ successfully."

"Well, that's rude."

Brittany stretched one of her legs out and nudged Quinn's thighs. "It just sounds messed up. You have to talk like Quinn talks. When you use big words and correct grammar and stuff like that. It's more you."

"I'm not allowed to use slang?" She kept a smile on her face to show Brittany she wasn't really offended.

"Nope. I can, and Santana totally can, but you and like, Rachel, need to use big words. I like it that way."

Quinn hummed again, nudging Brittany's foot with her thigh. "Fine then."

"Good," Brittany said, "now get up and get the pizza while I go melt chocolate in the microwave."

The door bell rang in time with her words and she figured Brittany saw the delivery person coming up the walkway while she wasn't paying attention. She climbed to her feet and walked a few steps. Before she got too far, she turned back around and her eyebrows scrunched together.

"You –"

Brittany cut her off, "Set it to a low power and only fifteen seconds at a time. I know, Q, I've done it before."

Quinn chuckled. "Just making sure. Don't make a mess I know you won't clean up."

Brittany saluted her, a move she obviously learned from Santana, and brushed past her into the kitchen. Quinn went to the front door and found an older man in a uniform holding their pizzas. He told her the bill and she reached into the pocket in her sweatpants and handed him enough for the food and a decent tip. He looked behind her when she reached for the pizzas and she caught Brittany out of the corner of her eye moving in and out of her bedroom. Closing the door and heading towards the kitchen, she peeked in her room and tried to see if anything was out of place. When she didn't immediately see something, she continued to the kitchen and saw Brittany hovering by the dining table over a bowl of melted chocolate. Brittany was stirring it and dipping her fingers in to taste the smooth coating around the edge.

Quinn went further into the room and as she rounded the corner, saw the two wine glasses filled halfway up. Brittany went and got her wine. She felt like that was a hint that they were going to start talking sooner rather than later.

When she dropped the boxes on the table, Brittany turned to her with an exhilarated smile.

"Ready for chocolate pizza?"

"Wait," she held her hand up, "I have to eat it too?"

The teasing glint in Brittany's eyes told her the answer without actual words. She would be trying chocolate pizza, on top of alcohol, and most likely vomiting before the night was over. Her mind worked to create some kind of combination of the ingredients that resembled a normal food. Chocolate and cheese didn't form anything, tomatoes and chocolate did nothing, but bread and chocolate felt more right. Maybe she could convince Brittany to let her just dip the crust in the chocolate.

Before she had much time to suggest that, Brittany was already opening the cheese pizza and pouring chocolate across the top, lathering it on thick.

"Britt!"

Brittany jolted and dropped the spoon on top of the pizza, turning to look at Quinn. "What?"

Quinn snickered. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making it. Am I doing it wrong?"

"You're putting it on everything," Quinn exclaimed.

Brittany shrugged and started going again. "We have another pizza," she mumbled.

Quinn shook her head and just let it happen. Maybe throwing up wouldn't be that bad.

Five minutes later they were seated around the kitchen table and Brittany was halfway through her second piece of pizza. Quinn had a similar experience, although it was her second glass of wine she was halfway through. Her pizza sat untouched, chocolate hardening on the layer of cheese.

"Quinn just try it," Brittany urged. Her drink count followed Quinn's but she was already reaching for the bottle for glass three.

"I don't wanna," Quinn whined. She picked at the uncovered cheese and popped a tiny shred into her mouth. That didn't seem to satisfy Brittany enough.

"Eat one piece, one _full_ piece and if you don't like it you can get the other pizza."

That seemed like an okay deal, or at least her fuzzy brain thought it was one. Reluctantly, she picked up the slice and held it in front of her face. The smell was nauseating enough; chocolate mixed with garlic. Brittany had resigned to sipping her drink, waiting on her to take the first bite. Quinn nodded to herself, reassuring herself she could stomach it, and took a tentative bite. The taste was gruesome at first while her taste buds scrambled to set it right, but as she kept chewing she realized it wasn't all that bad. She took another bite and struggled with the same beginning flavor. The initial taste killed her, but she could live with the settled one. Surprisingly, when she brought her glass to her lips it didn't amplify the bad flavors, but masked them. She understood why Brittany kept drinking as much as she did. It helped her make it through.

"So?"

Quinn took the last few bites to the crust and then swallowed it along with the rest of her wine. She cleared her throat and then said, "Acceptable."

Brittany laughed and got up from the table. She found the other box where it was left on the counter and exchanged it with the one on the table. Quinn squinted at the retreating box and was confused. Wasn't the whole point to eat the gross pizza?

"I just wanted to see if I could get you to eat it," Brittany said as she sat down. "Mission accomplished."

Quinn swatted her arm and laughed along with her. "I hate you."

"No you don't. Here," she grabbed a new piece of pizza and slid it onto Quinn's plate, "you can eat this one now."

"Thanks for your permission." _'Permission,'_ Quinn thought. That word didn't sit too well but she couldn't remember why.

They finished eating and sat around the table for a few minutes letting the food settle in their stomachs. Brittany had moved on to her fourth glass of wine and was emptying the rest of the bottle in Quinn's cup. She wanted to protest but then realized there wasn't much to stop her. Her mom was spending a week with her sister and wouldn't come home and catch them. School would be torture the next day but it was her idea to have a celebration. Brittany deserved it after everything anyways.

Xx

Brittany followed Quinn into her bedroom holding her glass attentively, making sure to not drop it. She was pretty drunk and the way Quinn stumbled over to her side of the bed reminded her she wasn't far behind. Her hands found the edge of Quinn's bed and propelled her up and on to it. She melted into the soft comforter and rolled her head around on the pillow she landed on.

Quinn went over to the tiny entertainment center and flicked on her TV. Brittany got up on her elbows and watched her finger trace down the stack of DVDs.

"What do you wanna watch," Quinn asked without turning back.

"Mmm, what do you have?"

"I'm trying to decide between Mean Girls and Accepted. Something we've seen a hundred times and can tune out and talk during."

Brittany chuckled. "We're actually going to do that?"

"That was the point of tonight, wasn't it?"

Brittany shook her head. Did Quinn forget?

"No, we were celebrating me, right? For my B."

Quinn laughed. "Crap, you're right. Well I still want to talk. Which one?"

Brittany debated. She didn't know if Mean Girls would strike a little too close to home for Quinn because of its title (she snickered a little at the thought) and she hadn't seen Accepted as much as Quinn seemed to think she had.

"Accepted," she decided, knowing they probably wouldn't watch much of it anyway.

"Alrighty."

Quinn put the disc in and then flopped her way back onto the bed. She settled up onto the headboard and Brittany went in the opposite direction to grab the other bottle. Snatching the opener from where she let it hang off her pocket, she opened it, ignoring Quinn's warning to be careful, and filled her glass. Quinn held hers over and they worked together to fill that one. She set the bottle on the nightstand and positioned herself next to Quinn against the head of her bed. They each took a sip and then she turned to her.

"Do you want to talk first or…?"

Quinn shook her head. "What's going on with you and Santana? There's so much tension between you and no the sexy good kind."

"Quinn," Brittany shouted, aiming a smack at her shoulder but missing and grazing the wood behind them.

"I'm sorry I dealt with two years of that with Rachel, so forgive me if I can't see it any other way."

"We're still sexy." They definitely still had sex, she thought, and they still made out in closets every now and then at school. "I don't know." She sighed and ran fingers against her closed eyes. "She's so distant lately, and so unhelpful. I know she's busy and everything but we barely even hang out anymore."

Quinn fumbled with the remote and hit the play button. Or the pause button, Brittany really couldn't tell.

"Once she finishes that song with Rach she'll start being around again."

"People go to work every day right, and they come home and they still have time for each other. Why don't we?"

"What's your point?"

"She doesn't even come over and eat dinner when she's not at Rachel's. Or like Dawson's Creek meor anything like she used to."

Quinn laughed into her glass. "Is that like a sex position or something?"

Brittany almost spit out her drink. "No! I mean come in through my window or anything. She doesn't have time for me anymore."

Quinn sat forward stiffly. "That's not true, B. She loves you, she's just busy."

"Well that's my point! She shouldn't be too busy for me. I swear, everything got worse after Finn outed us when it should have gotten better. Or what about today, with that guy? Didn't she think I would be upset about that? She didn't even ask me how I felt about it. She just kissed me and told me she had to leave. It's not fair."

She felt like Quinn couldn't think of what to say by the way she was staring at her. Alcohol made her blunt and she was grateful Santana hadn't come. She didn't know how easily she could have fixed _that_ situation when she could barely hold her head up straight.

"Maybe I'm just selfish," she said bitterly.

"You're not selfish. I'm selfish. You just want to spend time with your girlfriend, that's not a bad thing. And I don't think you should read too much into it. I think she's honestly just busy, Brittany. Santana couldn't ever get bored of you; I know that for a fact. She's fought too many battles against her feelings and for you that she wouldn't give up on you so easily."

Brittany sighed and shifted so she was lying against Quinn's shoulder. "You're probably right. I'm so tired of all this crap."

"It'll get better, Britt. I'm promising you."

Brittany nuzzled her nose against Quinn's t-shirt. "Thanks Quinn."

They watched the movie for a few minutes and chuckled a few times together. Brittany felt open and bear with all of her confusion out between them. She hated having such negative emotions relating to Santana. She really wanted them to go buy a house or find a cave and live together where nothing or no one would find them and cause problems. She wondered if Quinn knew of anywhere like that.

"I can't let her marry Finn."

Brittany sat up and turned her body facing Quinn. She pulled her legs underneath her body; that was what she had been waiting for. She knew from the second Rachel stood up next to Finn in the choir room earlier that day Quinn would proclaim something like that. Rachel was dumb to think Finn could love her half as much as Quinn continued to love her even though they were apart.

Quinn's eyes were tearing up and Brittany smoothed her fingers through her hair.

"I can't do it. She wants me to stand on an altar and watch her fix her life to his, _permanently_? Even if it wasn't him, this is the dumbest idea any of us has ever had. I love her too much to let a mistake like this happen."

A tear breached through and Brittany was swift enough to brush it away before it spread down Quinn's cheek.

"Do you think you can stop her?"

Quinn took a heavy breath that meant she doubted herself. "I want to think I can, but I'm not as sure as I should be. Do you think I can?"

Brittany wondered about it. Rachel hadn't shown a lot of fierce commitment to Finn that hadn't been out a defiant obligation. She seemed to stand by him because she thought no one else would want her. But would Quinn be enough to change that?

"I have a question."

Quinn laughed despite herself. "What?"

"Why did you guys break up, like for real? I know bits and pieces but I never got a full story."

"It's not that complicated. I loved her but never told her or showed how much and she got tired of waiting for me to declare my love for her by stepping out of the closet."

"Would you do that now?"

Quinn quirked an eyebrow sluggishly. They were both very much still drunk. "Do what?"

"Come out."

Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "It honestly doesn't matter to me anymore. Something happened to me this year and I don't know if it was letting go of all that pain with Beth or whatever, but nothing like that matters. I'm so tired of hiding how I feel about everyone. Like with you and Santana for example. Sure I'd hug you and stuff but not in public. I wouldn't even be nice to you in public. What the hell was _that_ about? You're my best friends. Don't even get me started on Sam. I'm surprised that kid even still talks to me."

"But we all loved you and we didn't care you acted that way. We knew what you really felt."

"And other people thought I was a bitch. 'Incapable of showing true human emotion.' I hate myself for making Rachel think she wasn't worth it. I'm not sure she could ever forgive me for that, but I would gladly come out for her now. I love her and I don't care if everyone knows that or not."

Brittany set her hand down on Quinn's shoulder and squeezed it. "We can figure it out, Q. I don't think anyone wants them together anymore. Kurt, Blaine, and I were talking about it and they agree they've started to become destructive. It isn't smart for anyone. Someone is going to get really hurt as a result of them together."

"Someone already is," Quinn mused, thoughtfully. She grabbed her glass and chugged down the rest of it. She motioned for Brittany to hand her the bottle and she ended up just pouring it for her. When she turned around to sit back against the back of the bed again, she grabbed her own glass and sipped at it.

The movie became cloudy around the edges as they continued to watch it and Brittany figured her last few drinks were finally kicking in. Quinn's laughter started coming out in more sloppy bursts and she couldn't contain her own. They weren't laughing from feeling joy at what they were seeing, but rather to settle the stirring of pain in their chests.

When the movie was over, the bottle was empty, and Quinn had shut off the light. They were settling into the bed to sleep when she felt a vibration against her thigh. She pulled her phone out and grimaced when the white background from her screensaver brightened the room.

Quinn struggled away from the light and groaned. "Shut that damn nightlight off…"

Brittany saw Santana had texted her and a tiny bit of excitement bubbled in her stomach.

**(10:23 PM) Santana:** How was Quinn's?

Brittany glanced over at Quinn who was facing her, eyes wide open and distant. She forgot she hadn't told Santana she wasn't going to school with her in the morning and instantly regretted the decision. Car rides were all she really had left anymore.

**(10:23 PM):** still herrre. sprding the nite. she's gmmna hive me a ride tmrw.

**(10:24 PM) Santana:** Did you guys drink lol?

**(10:26 PM):** a little

**(10:26 PM) Santana: **ha good god. Be careful tomorrow and I'm glad you two had fun. I love you so much, Brittany.

Brittany wanted to tell her she didn't have fun. She didn't like spilling all of her fears to a person who couldn't fix it. If she told Santana, they would work everything out. Telling Quinn didn't do anything other than make her realize how painful everything actually was. She wanted to tell Santana that but she couldn't articulate the words into text. Her fingers would barely move as it was.

**(10:27 PM): **i love you to, so muah

She dropped her phone onto the side table and then rolled over so she was facing Quinn again. Even if their eyes were locked together, they weren't really looking at each other. Brittany couldn't and wouldn't think about anyone other than Santana.

Her body shuffled forward closer to Quinn and their knees brushed together. Quinn's leg jostled and then resettled over top of her knee.

"Who was that?"

"Santana," Brittany whispered. "She said she loves me."

Quinn chuckled and leaned her head forward so their heads were touching. "Of course she does."

Of course Santana loved her. Santana was the girl who pushed her on the swing in the park. And the girl who beat up Puck when he called her stupid. Brittany strained her hazy memory if that was right. Santana tried to beat up a lot of people.

"Rachel loves you," Brittany told Quinn. Her nose brushed against Quinn's and they started to share the same pillow.

"She used to text me. All the time. But not since Finn gave her the ring."

Brittany giggled softly. "He put a ring on it."

Quinn moved her head, nuzzling their noses together again accidentally. "Not funny."

Brittany watched Quinn shut her eyes and then did the same with her own. She tried to imagine Quinn's pressure against her body as Santana's. It wasn't too hard. Their foreheads were both incredibly soft, insanely silky to the touch. She wondered if Quinn's lips felt like Santana's then.

Quinn's hand reached up and skirted along her cheek. "You never answered my question, Brittany. Can I stop them from getting married?"

Lifting her own hand and doing the same thing, she opened her eyes. Quinn was looking at her mouth and her eyes did the same thing. "I think so." She said it slowly so her lips didn't flop around too much.

'_They look as soft as Santana's,'_ she thought and inched a fraction closer.

Quinn's voice stopped her and so did, she opened her hand to look and see what the pressure against her shoulder was, Quinn's fingertips. "No, Britt."

"Sorry," she whispered and leaned away. "I d-don't," her face burned as she grasped for words to explain what almost happened, "I don't know what that was."

"We're drunk," Quinn said. Her voice sounded a lot more unsteady than she looked. Almost like she was scolding herself for letting it _almost_ happen too.

Before everything went kind of black, she remembered Quinn leaned in first. _'Didn't she?'_

* * *

><p>Quinn's head was throbbing, but she'd felt worse before. It wasn't even the slight hangover that made her feel like an idiot, but the residual guilt she wished would have disappeared in her sleep. Nothing had actually occurred but the action of leaning in was still there, blending in under layers of alcohol. She could barely remember even watching the movie, or what they really talked about, and it didn't seem fair the only thing she remembered was that almost-event. She didn't even want to consider the consequences had it actually happened.<p>

Brittany remembered it too, or Quinn figured when she wasn't in bed when she woke up. Her car was gone and all of her stuff. _'Maybe she went to school,' _Quinn had wondered. She wasn't going to school and hadn't planned on it all night actually. Waking up at noon because she hadn't set her alarm clock was only icing on the unprepared cake.

She texted Brittany when she woke up and made sure wherever she ended up she was okay. Brittany answered and said she went home and that she was sorry for the night before. It felt too ridiculous to respond and say it was nothing, because even proposing the idea that it could have been _something_ worth worrying about felt wrong.

She couldn't even imagine what would happen if Santana found out. But she knew Brittany hated lying and prepared herself for the worst if the news ever got out. Their drunken mistake could open a plethora of roads she didn't want to find herself travelling down anytime soon.

And even if it didn't really make matters better, she hadn't actually kissed Brittany. How mad would Santana be if she found out it wouldn't have been the first time if it actually had happened?

Her phone buzzed and she prayed that it wouldn't be her best friend. She couldn't face her just yet, even through text.

**(1:32 PM) Sam E:** Just because you don't show up at school doesn't mean you can bail on us tonight Quinn!

She felt an awkward smile fall on her face and responded to him, happy she had something to look forward to that night. Something to take her mind off of everything that had happened. And everything that had _almost_ happened.

* * *

><p>Brittany let Santana take her hand when she climbed out of the car and smiled as best she could despite the awful way she felt. They were at Breadstix and while Santana had tried every effort at surprising her since she picked her up after school, all of her reactions felt half-hearted. Lucky enough, Santana was too excited to realize anything was out of place. She could appreciate the effort however and most of her smiles were genuine.<p>

They walked into the restaurant, hands held between them, and were delighted to see how Breadstix had really transformed for the Valentine's Party. Sugar annoyed Santana on an almost daily basis, but Brittany kind of loved her. Anyone who carried around an animal-themed backpack was okay in her opinion.

Mercedes and Sam were already singing a fast-paced version of _Can't Help Falling in Love_ on the makeshift stage at the front of the room and people were dancing in front of them. Brittany felt the urge to go up and join them but remained at Santana's side as they walked over to a table where Blaine, Kurt, Mike, Quinn and Tina were all sitting. Santana pulled a chair out for her and she grinned up at her while she sat down and then slid the seat next to her back so she'd join her.

Quinn wouldn't look in her direction and she forced herself to keep her eyes on Santana. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves and she should too. It was a date after all, even if they were surrounded by almost every one of their friends. Spending the night with Santana made her forget they were all there anyway.

She pulled Santana's hand into her lap and played with her fingers, tracing them up and down with her fingertips, scratching into her open palm. Santana smirked and flipped her hand over to squeeze her thigh.

"Are we going to have to initiate some sort of hands on the table policy," Kurt asked with a playful smile.

Santana laughed along with everyone else and then said, "Why, do you think your boyfriend might try to round third at the dinner table?"

Blaine looked scandalized and Brittany snickered realizing he probably still didn't know how to deal with Santana yet. She caught his attention and winked to make him realize she was just teasing him.

Blaine changed the subject to get attention off the two of them. "How's your song coming along, Santana?"

"Have you strangled Rachel yet," Kurt joked.

Quinn's head twisted and looked at the group again, paying more attention to the conversation. Brittany was surprised when she saw a fleeting glance in her direction.

"Almost," Santana said. "No, it's starting to sound decent. Passable, maybe better than half of the losers who are submitting to the same program."

"You're being modest," Kurt told her, "Rachel told us how powerful it was. And fresh. She has quite a complimentary vocabulary if she takes the focus off herself for a second."

"She doesn't have to compliment a lot of people because she's better than most of them," Tina said honestly. Mike and Quinn nodded in agreement.

Santana side-eyed her and for some reason Brittany felt like she toned down the quality of her song as some sort of offering to her. She thought maybe Santana figured if she wasn't proud of it, then Brittany couldn't blame her for it. Brittany decided that was ludicrous and any song of Santana's had to be amazing. She wouldn't blame her for creating something wonderful, even if it kept them apart.

"I'm sure it's perfect," Brittany said sweetly, leaning over and kissing Santana's cheek.

"California seems like such a far move," Blaine continued, "are you sure you're ready for that?"

Santana glanced at Brittany and then glared at him. "_We're_ ready for it. The schools there are just good fits and it doesn't make sense to be anywhere else. It's like you two and New York."

Kurt ruffled his fingers along the slicked down edges of Blaine's hair tenderly. "Sometimes I worry that NYU and NYADA might be_ too_ far apart."

Brittany didn't understand why Blaine hadn't applied along with Kurt and Rachel to NYADA. They could have all been together rather than only the two of them. "How does that work? What's at NYU?"

Blaine's face lit up as he started to tell the story. "Well, we were originally both planning on applying at NYADA, but when we heard how selective it was, combined with our natural competitiveness, we decided that wouldn't have a remarkable impact on our relationship. I looked at other schools and found that NYU has a wonderful Musical Theatre program." He took a sip of his water and patted Kurt's hand. "It just made sense for us then."

"That's really smart," Mike said. "You can be together without having to compete."

"We thought so." Kurt smiled at Blaine and then sighed. "If I even get in to NYADA."

Brittany reached across the table and grabbed Kurt's hand. He had supported her numerous times before and she felt like it was her responsibility to do the same for him.

"You'll get in Kurt. You're super talented."

"Thanks, Britt."

The front door to the restaurant opened behind them and all heads turned to see Finn and Rachel entering, arms linked between them. Brittany thought she heard a little humph from Quinn's end of the table, but ignored it.

The song switched in the background to _Tearin Up My Heart_, with Sam taking vocal lead over Mercedes just as Tina whispered across the table, "I can't believe they're actually getting married."

When Santana turned around in her seat, Brittany did the same and saw how Quinn had positioned her body away from the entrance and held her head in her hand.

Santana groaned. "Those idiots give me a headache every time I see them. Does anyone else feel like they're so far past the moment when they _should_ have broken up?"

Kurt, Blaine, Mike, and Tina all raised their hands discreetly with smirks on their faces. Brittany thought the question was one of those ones where you weren't supposed to answer so she had kept quiet; that gave her the opportunity to see Quinn raise one of her fingers on the table in protest along with everyone else.

Santana nodded along and then turned to Rachel as they approached the table. "Berry, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Brittany sat up and scrunched her forehead together, not wanting Santana to leave. She tried to subtly tug on the hand Santana still had in her lap but she still stood up.

"Certainly, Santana," Rachel said smiling. "Is this about the last…" their voices trailed off as they left the table.

Brittany watched Finn debate between taking Santana's open seat, trying to fit in between Blaine and Mike, or walking all the way around and sitting down by Quinn. He opted for the middle one and forced himself in between the guys, tugging up a chair from the surrounding tables.

"Hey! What are you guys talking about?"

Tina and Brittany exchanged awkward eye contact, looking away from his probing eyes.

Kurt filled in, "Just discussing colleges and Sam's wonderful harmony in an outdated N'SYNC song."

Finn glanced at the stage, Brittany figured probably ignoring the college part of the sentence, and shouted, "He kicks ass. I'm so glad I found him last year."

Mike burst out into laughter and then tried to cover it up with his hand. Tina smacked him on the shoulder with a smirk on her face as well.

"What! Sorry," he yelled through his laughter, "it just sounds like he's dating him."

Quinn looked back over and smirked at Mike, nodding her head in approval. "They would make such a cute couple."

Finn looked furious but before he got a chance to say anything, Quinn stood up from the table. As she walked around, Brittany didn't pay attention to her leaving—until her voice was in her ear.

"Can I talk to you?"

Brittany turned back and tried to nod but it came out as a tiny jerk of her head. "Uh, yeah, sure."

She stood up and followed Quinn to the back hallway of Breadstix where all of the extra musical equipment was set up. Guitars, extra mic-stands, and a few large speakers surrounded them as Quinn turned around to talk to her.

"We need to talk about last night," she said softly. "Not because it means anything, but just because I don't want there to be awkwardness between us."

Brittany leaned against an empty spot on the wall and groaned. "It was just a stupid mistake. And nothing even happened, we were just both really drunk."

"And upset," Quinn added.

"And lonely." Brittany could understand why it happened, even if she was still a little freaked out about the whole thing.

"We need to just forget it and not," she paused and Brittany knew what she was going to say.

"I didn't tell Santana," Brittany said. "It didn't seem like something worth telling about."

"I figured," Quinn said, "I thought I'd end up with a broken nose or a black eye tonight."

Brittany stepped forward. "I wouldn't let her hit you over nothing, Q."

"So you're fine with pretending it never happened," Quinn asked.

"Nothing _did _happen."

"Okay," Quinn smiled, "Good then."

Brittany smiled too. "Alright."

"You should get back out there. Your surprise should be just about ready."

Brittany bounced on her toes and let out an excited squeak. "You know what my surprise is?"

"You'll see." Quinn walked past her and went back out into the main floor of the restaurant. But when Brittany followed her, she suddenly lost track of her until she looked up at the stage and saw Quinn with Sam and Mercedes. She winked at her and Brittany went back to walking through the room.

Santana was back from her conversation with Rachel—Rachel was sitting on the opposite side of the table in Finn's lap—and was frowning at her empty chair. When she caught sight of her, Santana walked over and took her hand.

"Where'd you go?"

Brittany's heart pounded. "Had a little chat with Quinn."

"She didn't tell you anything, right?" Her eyes were wide with panic.

Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana's cheek. "You're fine."

Santana smirked and motioned for her to sit down. "Well, sit tight, it's just about time."

Brittany took her seat and was surprised to see Santana didn't sit down next to her, but went in the opposite direction towards the stage. The music had stopped and Quinn, Mercedes, and Sam were standing with smiles on their faces.

Santana hopped up with an assisted hand from Sam and rounded to stand in front of the microphone.

"Last Valentine's Day," Santana started, "I was at Breadstix with a few of my friends because I was single. The only person I wanted to be with, in this whole world, was dating someone else, but now I have her. I love you, Brittany," Santana winked across the floor, "and I want the world to know that. You're the best thing that ever happened to be."

Brittany heard Rachel coo from across the table and Tina sniffling near her. She wiped at her eyes and mouthed _I love you_ back at Santana.

"I know you've been waiting to hear my song, but it's not ready. And I hope in the meantime, you won't mind if I let our friends do the singing. But," she smiled, jumping down off the stage, "will you come dance with me?"

Brittany didn't even have to think about it as she shot up from her seat and stormed across the middle of the room towards Santana. She could never get over how absolutely in love with her she was. Moments in between their struggle seemed so much sweeter than they had ever been before.

Her arms went around Santana's neck the second she reached her. Santana laughed and hugged her around the waist, kissing where her dress slid to the right and showed skin from her shoulder. Quinn's voice rang around them and Brittany remembered they were supposed to be dancing, not hugging in the middle of the dance floor. People had scattered around them in pairs to dance: Mike and Tina, Kurt and Blaine, Finn and Rachel. Quinn danced between them and sang a little of the chorus specifically to Brittany and Santana.

They swayed together, Santana twirled her a few times until she protested, demanding the closeness she hadn't been afforded for so long. Brittany only wanted to be with Santana. They could be dancing in her bedroom at home for all she minded. As the song came to a close, Quinn had made her way back up onto the stage and was standing in between Sam and Mercedes, and arm slung around them both.

Santana tilted her head up and kissed Brittany, smooth and quick. She let her lips ghost along the corner of Brittany's mouth as she asked, "Do you like your surprise?"

The clapping around them distracted her and she glanced up at Quinn, but then looked away almost as quickly.

"It's perfect."

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><p><strong>Review, cause I <em>really<em> am curious to hear what you think. Thanks for reading as always :)**

**Breakdown6-I beat you this time, but for understandable reasons. You're really busy and I don't do much of anything so, more time on my hands. They had a lot of exposition last chapter with each other, but they still haven't resolved much as you saw in this chapter too. I hoped people wouldn't assume that everything was going to be immediately fixed between them just b/c of that chapter. I just wanted to show that they still are in love with each other, even if they are having problems.  
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**HecksYea- Sorry, you always want them to be happy but I can't just let them be happy yet. They had a good few chapters of happiness though. Thanks for the review!  
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**Lanter- Thanks, I tried a lot harder with the descriptions on purpose so I'm glad it was noticeable :)  
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**jtour-I love writing cute things for them. It's such a nice break between the rest of it haha  
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**JohnDo-Thanks, I mean it might get a little annoying because their stories are going to start intertwining more soon, or at least in my opinion they will. Glad you liked it though :0  
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**Tagme07- Santana needed to learn how to do it on her own. That's essentially the point and I'm sure you can figure it our from there :P**

**vero-Thanks! I love that new readers keep popping up. If I had been writing this during when season 2 was actually on the air, Artie would have turned out as a huge jackass. I'm sure of that. Bartie breaking up and season 3 gave me some perspective that I really didn't hate him as much as I thought I did. But thanks I appreciate the review :) .  
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**anon-canon is going. that's funny cause that's exactly how I felt about Finn in the actual show.  
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	49. time isn't on my side

**********A/N: This is the last canon-thing, I promise ;)** And also, I'm not a songwriter, so I did my best without writing lyrics. A music appreciation class I took years ago helped me write it, so I hope it doesn't suck. Enjoy!********

******As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! I was pleasantly surprised with the amount of reviews for the last chapter, especially the people who came out of the woodwork, and I just want to say thank you all. I'm glad the Quinn/Brittany thing drew such a response from all of you. Thanks again :)******

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><p>Santana came pouring through the open door, waving her arms and excitably tackling her to the bed. Brittany had about three seconds of thought before her senses were invaded with everything Santana. Everything from the scent of her clothes, the touch of fingertips against her arms, and a squeal of excitement filling her from the outside in. It didn't make sense, but it totally did.<p>

"Santana!" She pushed at the girl's shoulders, laughing and trying to force her upwards. "What are you doing?"

Santana kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips once. She forgot her question mere seconds after asking it.

Santana hadn't though.

"We finished it!"

"Finished," Brittany drew out, focusing on the warmth where lips had previously been.

"The song," Santana exclaimed, grabbing her arms and hoisting her upwards, "_my _song. We finished the damn thing. Berry wouldn't shut her mouth about," her voice switched into a shrieking mockery of Rachel, "_tiny little imperfections that could make the difference between entry and rejection_. God she is a fucking handful."

"You finished it?"

Santana slid her fingers under the straps of Brittany's tanktop. "Mhm." Her eyes were anything but innocently scouring every inch of her skin. "It's all done. Ready to be emailed or mailed or whatever I plan to do with it." One of her hands started to move down Brittany's side and skim underneath her shirt.

Brittany stuttered at the welcome contact, "W-what are you doing?"

"Something about all this accomplishment." Santana pushed Brittany back on the bed against the pillows and hovered over her, putting a thigh down into the bed in between her legs to steady herself. "I'm feeling very," she smirked, "_confident_."

Brittany grinned up at her and cupped the back of her neck, fingers sliding through the smooth waves of her hair. "_Confident?_"

Santana nodded and dipped her head down to kiss Brittany lightly, a bare grazing of lips. "And there's something about your neck right now," she leaned down and brushed her lips over the smooth skin under Brittany's jaw, "it's upsetting me."

Frowning into the air where Santana couldn't see her, Brittany tried to understand what she meant without asking. When that didn't happen, and Santana was already making fast work of sucking the skin where her pulse throbbed unevenly, she couldn't help but mumble, "Upsetting you?"

Santana pulled back, but only enough to speak into the small space under her chin. "You've been unmarked for way too long. How will people know you're taken if there's no proof?" She bit down softly on the spot she was kissing before and Brittany groaned.

"My facebook," Brittany threw out, not concentrating too much on her words and more on how Santana made her feel. Her heart was thumping, she had a hard time trying to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head, but there was something new in the pit of her stomach. Not the familiar coiling and tightening normally associated with Santana's actions, but something new. Something she couldn't put a definite name with.

Something like dread. And a little like guilt. Both of those feelings battled against her stomach for bragging rights. Guilt was the stronger contender.

Who cared if Quinn said it didn't matter and that she decided telling Santana would make everything worse at the moment for them. That tiny betrayal was still there and even with Santana writhing and grinding against her, she couldn't suppress it. And she didn't even do anything. For some reason_ that_ felt like the worst part.

She didn't have feelings for Quinn outside of a close friendship. There wasn't anything in her mind to suggest otherwise and she couldn't even imagine the possibility ever occurring. She didn't want it to. The kiss-that-didn't-happen was an accident and nothing more. End of discussion.

That's why she didn't understand why she couldn't move past it. It'd been four days and every few and far between second she'd seen Santana she wanted to cry. Or burst out and confess what happened. If she didn't feel bound by some loyalty to protect Quinn, she probably would have.

Plus, she hadn't talked to Quinn about it outside of Breadstix on Valentine's Day. Her memory of that night was tainted by her confusion over the whole situation. Even when they made it back to Santana's and fell into bed together, a rush of stripped clothing and panting breaths couldn't push the thoughts out of her head. She hated every second of it.

Quinn seemed happy enough to forget everything and go back to normal. Brittany couldn't even take the time to bother her for more reassurances about its insignificance because she didn't want to burden Quinn with another relationship blunder. They both already had enough of their own without blurring the lines together.

A startling tug of her neck made Brittany snap back into what they were doing and Santana sat up staring at her, confused.

"Do you not want to…" She motioned between them as a show of awkward innuendo. The indecision on Santana's face was too cute for Brittany to not laugh. Her laugh was rewarded with a frustrated frown.

"Sorry," Brittany muttered, "I'm just not..."

Santana's eyes flicked all over her face, searching for something. They knew each other well enough for her to suspect something was wrong, but she wished Santana could just sense her apprehension and let it go.

She let out a relieved sigh when Santana just shrugged.

"It's fine. I just wanted to celebrate. I guess we'll just have to do it a little more innocently." She waggled her eyebrows and smirked, leaning up to kiss Brittany again with a little more zest and resolve.

Brittany kissed back enthusiastically, enough to sate Santana's desire but not enough to initiate more. She wanted to enjoy herself with her girlfriend, but the universe seemed to be against that.

Santana surprised her by humming quickly and snapping back. "I totally forgot." She sat up and perched on her knees.

Brittany followed up on her elbows and smiled, watching Santana strain herself digging through the tight material of her skinny jeans. She laughed when she heard her mumbled, "Have to stop wearing tight fitting clothing."

Brittany lowered her voice as well and whispered, "Please don't do that." When Santana glanced up from her task, she winked and went back to finding whatever was in her pants.

Finally, she extracted what Brittany quickly identified as a flash drive and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Do you have to work on a paper or something?"

Santana chuckled and shook her head. "No, babe. It's on here. My song."

Brittany stretched herself upwards in a full sitting position, grabbing the flash drive and staring at it. "Really?"

She'd heard so much about _'the song_,' and a few parts the couple times she was invited to Rachel's, but nothing more substantial than that. Unless Santana's humming counted, because then she'd heard the song before anyone else. She'd heard it more times than she could remember if that were the case.

The fact that it had become a tangible thing in their lives felt unreal. She held a crappy pink flash drive, scraped and dinged from casual use for most of their lives, differently than she'd ever held it before. Brittany was holding Santana's future, and kind of _their_ future.

Dark eyes were studying her closely as she turned the piece of plastic over in her fingers and she could feel the nervousness flowing from Santana into her own chest. She drew her attention away long enough to lean over and rest her forehead against Santana's. Brittany felt hot breaths breaking on her nose from the weird angle and tried to nuzzle it against any skin she could reach.

"Can I," Brittany asked as she lifted her palm, "can I listen to it?"

Santana snatched the flash drive from her and held it against her chest, stirring backwards. Brittany felt a little dizzy from the rush of motion so close to her head.

"I want you to hear it, but I kind of don't want to be here. That's a lot of pressure, since," Santana said, voice quickly turning into a mumble, "…"

"What?" Brittany wanted to tilt her downturned head up and stare into her eyes, but kept still, waiting for Santana to make the next move. She still wasn't prying.

"It's kind of about you," Santana rushed out, "Well, about us, actually."

Brittany snatched the flash drive back, holding it close to her chest. "Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

Santana ran a hand through her own hair and groaned. "It's embarrassing. What if you don't like it?"

'_Like that's even a possiblitity,'_ Brittany thought leaning forward to kiss Santana. Santana caught her neck and held her in place. Brittany knew what she was doing and tore her arms away.

"Good try," Brittany teased, twirling the small plastic device in her fingers. She got up and went over to her desk, found her computer, and brought it back to the bed. Santana was on her feet and Brittany nabbed her wrist. "Don't leave."

"I have to," Santana said, "at least for the first time."

Brittany groaned and slipped her hand into Santana's. "So dramatic."

"Shut up," Santana whined, gently pulling her hand away. "I'll be in the kitchen." She smiled, unsurely, and turned on her heels to leave the room.

The second she was gone, Brittany skipped back to her bed and powered on the laptop. She was excited. More than excited. Would it be a pop song? Or a power ballad, something to make her swoon? Her stupid computer wouldn't load fast enough. Finally the desktop showed up and she plugged in the flash drive, willing every second to pass faster.

A folder popped up labeled _Mix 01_ and she drug the cursor over to click triple click it; a double click didn't feel like enough of an effort. She ignored all the times her mom yelled and said the more times you clicked, the longer it would take to open.

At the top of the page, she saw a media file titled _Song01__. _Her blood started racing through her veins, bursting into her fingertips and throat, warming her skin from head to toe. The combination of nausea and anticipation had her taking deep breaths, waiting for the song to load in her iTunes. The counter started in time with her erratic heartbeat and she pulled her knees up under her chin to listen.

A melody drawled across the rich sounds of a piano floated through the speakers, rhythmic and relaxed. She thought she could pick up the tiniest hint of a sigh around the edges as the hummed tune she'd become so familiar with resonated in new purchase, a fresh medium. But she knew it was the same song, more beautiful than she had ever appreciated. It was already surpassing all of her expectations.

Until a soft intake of air and Santana's voice tore through her, visceral and sincere in every lyric. The words entranced her almost more than the music. Brittany could easily detect their story, their struggle, and the powerfulness in which Santana communicated it in every note. She'd never hear that soft melody the same way again. The chorus was smart and well delivered in a way that she hadn't heard the hook coming. It gave the song a little mystery to keep the listener absorbed.

Santana's rich voice did enough of that by itself.

An accompanying harmony rung through on a guitar, acoustic and bright. It played back and forth with the deepness of the piano, thinning out when a word was emphasized and pronounced with a hard keystroke. In the first chorus, Brittany heard Rachel's voice, filtered and ethereal, almost indistinguishable against the rest of the music. Santana's voice was a wall of sound in the middle, everything else coming out from there in waves.

She had heard Santana sing her whole life, more recently than anything, but she found something new as the song came to the bridge. And it was honesty. Each word, note on the piano, back up lyric of Rachel's was so precise and explicit that Brittany felt pervaded. Maybe because she knew what everything meant and most of the feelings were one's she'd experienced herself with the song's writer, but Santana had truly emoted honest revelations she felt other people could relate to. Which was remarkable for the girl who shut everyone out.

During the last few seconds, when the guitar had fallen away and the last piano chord played, she heard another deep exhale. The sound felt more poignant than the whole song, because she knew it was the breath right before Santana cried. It felt appropriate as she reached up and smeared the tears across her cheeks.

Brittany stood up from the bed and almost ran to her closed bedroom door. When she threw it open, a dull thud landed on her feet and she saw Santana had fallen through the open space. Her hand was up by her face like she had been chewing her nails and Brittany laughed through her tears, prompting a smile from Santana.

"Did you not like it," Santana asked from the ground, staring up at her upside down.

Brittany dropped to her knees and kissed her. She kissed her like she'd wanted to kiss her for months, forcing every raw emotion through whatever wall had been building between them. Santana leaned up off her back and licked through her lips, searching for her tongue like she hadn't in forever. She wasn't forcing a kiss Brittany had to respond to, but willed her to, and wanted her to. And she did.

With an awkward shove, Santana gave herself enough from to sit up and move around to face Brittany, not yet going in for another kiss. Brittany's stomach fluttered under her scrutiny, begging for her to make the move and push them together again. She peered into dark eyes, seeing everything she'd just heard but more real and tangible. She could reach out and devour those feelings if she wanted to.

Santana inched closer to her with hooded eyelids and Brittany leaned backwards on the floor, enticing Santana to follow her. A hand on either side of her head and legs encasing her hips, Santana settled above her, tipping forward to brush their foreheads together.

Brittany could feel the tension dissipating between them and forming anew with a different pressure. Her hands found their way onto Santana's lower back and eased underneath the material of her Cheerio's top. Brittany dipped fingers into the curves of her spine and Santana shivered above her, already skimming the skin of her neck with wet lips. Her neck twitched when Santana scraped her teeth along the skin she'd bitten and bruised earlier, immediately soothing it with a warm tongue tracing delicate circles.

A loud thud sounded and Brittany jerked up to see what it was, but one of Santana's hands pushed her back down.

"Giving us some privacy," she muttered between strokes of her tongue to Brittany's jaw.

Brittany cupped Santana's cheek and guided her upwards so they were face to face. "You might want to lock it then."

A flash of something ripped through Santana's eyes as she twisted around and stretched her body to lock the door. Brittany laughed and admired the skin revealed by her contortion. The way their bodies were rubbing together didn't hurt too much either as Santana struggled to reach the door. She bit her lip to stifle a whimper.

When she her lock click into place, Santana's lips were back on hers within a second, sliding and mixing flavors of her own skin against the taste of Santana on her mouth. A sweetness, like strawberries, set her taste buds alight and she wondered if Santana had actually gone to the kitchen to find food.

That didn't matter so much when her focus switched to the subtle untying of the drawstring on her pajama pants. Her heartbeat hammered in her stomach and she felt a weird sense of irritation. Normally she'd let Santana have control, but she was overwhelmed with the urge to flip them and take over.

So she did.

Grabbing Santana around the waist, she rolled them over further into her bedroom and ended up in between her legs, hands trapped underneath her.

Before she could protest, Brittany pulled her hands away and pressed them down on Santana's shoulders, pinning her to the floor. With their mouths moving together again, she took the opportunity to free one hand and unzip both pieces of her uniform. That way she broke away only long enough to remove both pieces at once and was back before the air could dry Santana's parted lips. She leaned onto her right arm and trailed her left down the contours of rigid muscles in Santana's stomach, sweeping downward and teasingly sliding her fingers along the hem of her panties. Santana's breaths came out in tiny puffs against her lips and her hands curled into Brittany's hair and the ground respectively.

When her fingers moved again, Santana broke out of the kiss, sitting up on her elbows. Brittany kissed her jaw, biting and sucking on the skin trying to perfect a mark of her own. She couldn't ignore the peaceful calm she felt watching the expressions on Santana's face, eyes strained shut and lip clenched between her teeth. Suddenly agitated with herself, Brittany nimbly increased her ministrations, trying to prove something.

They shouldn't have fallen apart so easily when tiny problems lined the edges of their relationship. It had survived enough without letting something stupid like a non-kiss, or a few weeks of mild separation to throw them off. Even if one of them didn't end up in L.A., they'd still be together. Things would only get harder, as they often seemed to do, but they'd make it work. Brittany tried to force the lingering feelings of doubt from her body as Santana's hand jolted from the ground to the arm stretched across her abdomen, clenching it with her fingertips roughly.

Brittany nuzzled her nose into Santana's temple and breathed into her ear, "I love you, so much."

Santana whimpered and came undone around Brittany's fingers, arching her body into her chest. Brittany extracted her hand and brushed them against the carpet, before wrapping that arm around Santana's chest, holding them together. Santana trembled, overwhelmed and content to relax in the embrace. Brittany leaned against her forehead and brushed her lips over it tenderly.

"I really like your song."

A low chuckle vibrated into her chest and Santana let her body hang back enough in Brittany's arms to see her face.

"I gathered that."

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><p><strong>(1:23 PM) Rachel To: Mercedes, Tina, Brittany, Quinn, Santana: <strong>Dress fittings on Friday at 3:45 sharp at the Bridal Emporium in Westerville. Shouldn't be too far away. Hope to see you all there! :)

Santana stared at her phone as she walked through the lunchroom, carrying her tray with one hand. _'Classy, Rachel,'_ she thought, debating whether or not to return a scathing remark as punishment. On top of Regional's on Thursday, they also had Rachel and Finn's wedding to worry about. Her aggressions towards the whole topic had nothing to do with her own feelings about their future divorce, but how impersonal Rachel was treating Quinn about the whole situation.

Across the room, Santana noticed Rachel sitting by herself, scrolling through her cell phone with one hand and eating carrots with the other. She remembered her little plan about ruining Finn's image at the same time and started marching with more conviction. _'Time to step it up.'_

Rachel didn't see her as she sat down and said, "Hey, I have a question."

The carrot flew to Rachel's tray and she covered her chest with that empty hand. "You scared the hell out of me."

"I do that," Santana quipped, settling in to her plastic box of salad.

"I know. But, what do you have a question about?"

Santana forked a tomato into her mouth and spoke around it. "I've been with a lot of guys, well at least I used to."

"Uh huh." Rachel's forehead crinkled skeptically and Santana knew she had no idea what was coming.

"And I've noticed that with them, I've never been able to get off—"

"Santana!"

Santana faked indignation and put her hands up. "What? You didn't even let me ask the question."

"That's because I feel like you're question is going to be inappropriate," Rachel remarked, reaching for her water and gulping it down.

"Whatever, we're supposed to be friends, I'm allowed to ask you questions like this."

"Not if I'm not comfortable with them!"

Santana wanted to laugh at how close Rachel seemed to be considering getting up and leaving.

She used a trick she'd noticed worked on the girl almost every time she'd tried it; using her actual name.

"_Rachel_," Santana groaned. "I have an important question."

Sighing, Rachel closed her eyes and put a hand up in resignation. "What?"

"Well, you're marrying Finn, right," Santana stated, showing her phone as a confirmation that she'd received the text, "and I've had sex with him." Rachel cringed and she felt a tiny bit guilty, but pressed on. "But it was awful and he didn't…._fulfill_ his end of the bargain, if you know what I'm sayin'."

Rachel's cheeks flared red, Santana guessed finally realizing what she was implying.

"And I'm just curious if that was a problem for you, too."

Rachel took another extra long drink of water and dropped her gaze to the tray in front of her. "Y-you said this was important."

"It is important, for your future wellbeing. I mean, I'm pretty sure that's why you've been so calm this year is because someone finally got in there and did the job." When Rachel glared, she amended, "I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"He," Rachel started, brushing through her hair with her fingers, "he hasn't, we—haven't, he…"

"So he hasn't," Santana concluded, dropping her eyes so Rachel couldn't see the satisfaction of her smirk.

"No," Rachel shouted nervously, "not because he hasn't," she paused and Santana looked up, "he hasn't ever had the opportunity."

That didn't make sense. "What do you mean?"

"We've never, um, actually participated in—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up. You two have never—?"

Rachel shook her head resolutely, eyes firmly planted on the table.

"What about all of that stuff earlier this year? We all thought you did, because you guys got super close after that." She remembered the heartbroken look on Quinn's face as they exited the musical, Rachel and Finn nowhere to be found.

Rachel nodded. "We were going to, but I couldn't go through with it. It just didn't like the right time."

Santana frowned. _'Well that's a game changer,'_ she had been holding onto that as clear reasoning for why they were even still together; Finn was holding onto Rachel because she'd finally given it up to him, or vice versa.

"He's been asking me a lot since he proposed, but I want to wait," Rachel said firmly. "When we're married it'll mean more to me than if I just hand myself over after a particularly hard history test or something."

She didn't like how that sounded. "You know, it probably shouldn't feel like you're surrendering."

"Well I've been withholding it for long enough."

Those words played in Santana's head and she couldn't hear them with Rachel's voice.

"That doesn't sound like you."

"That's because it isn't," Rachel said quietly.

A stirring across the room caught Santana's attention and she glanced up to see Quinn passing with Puck on their way to sit down. Her eyes were in her phone, and a smile fell to complete dread as she read what Santana figured was Rachel's text. Quinn's head dashed up and she looked around the room unsurely, following Puck to a table where Mike, Sam, and Mercedes were sitting eating lunch together.

When Santana turned back, she saw Rachel's eyes had followed hers and were watching Quinn too. She was chewing on her lip and her fingers clenched the carrot between her fingers a little tighter; Santana wanted to roll her eyes.

"You're killing her with this, you know," Santana said in a calm voice, not wanting to piss Rachel off.

Rachel turned back with an awkward smile and rolled her eyes. "That's a little dramatic."

"That doesn't make it any less true."

"Santana, we've been over for a long time. It's been almost a year."

That wasn't pressing the right buttons so she continued on another pathway.

"You know, she would have waited for you. No questions asked."

Rachel glanced over at Quinn again, wistfully tugging on her lip and Santana realized how easy it was to rile her up.

"She did."

Caught off guard, Santana tilted her head in confusion. "Elaborate?"

"She didn't pressure me," Rachel said thoughtfully, "she actually had to resist."

Santana was pretty sure she heard that wrong. If Quinn was the one who had to resist, then that meant…

"Don't look so surprised."

Santana laughed boisterously. "Oh sweet Jesus. All this time we thought you were the prude."

"No one was a _prude,_" Rachel defended, "I just wanted to _further _the relationship and Quinn wanted to wait."

"Why?"

Rachel sighed. "She wanted me to be sure about what I was deciding. _'It shouldn't be a snap decision in the back of a car.'_"

"Back of a car," Santana teased, "nice going Berry." Something clicked in her mind. "Wait, does she know about you and Fin—"

"No," Rachel cut her off. She laughed. "That would be a nice conversation, 'Hey Quinn! You know how you and I never consummated our relationship and you thought I gave my virginity to Finn? _Never happened._ Here's this week's sheet music.' That would have gone over wonderfully."

"Don't you think she should know that?"

"You've had sex with Brittany, right?"

Santana glowered. "Yeah, and?"

"I still have Matt's phone number, would you like me to call him in Toledo and tell him that?"

"Of course not," Santana exclaimed.

Rachel smirked and said, "Well there's your answer."

"That's different and you know it."

"Why is that different?"

"Because Quinn's in love with you and you're about to get married to the wrong—"

"Enough," Rachel said stubbornly. "I'm sick of having this same conversation with you."

"Whatever, Rachel. Just think about this," Santana stood up and crossed her arms, "There are two people you could spend the rest of your life with. One gave up their own satisfaction to protect your heart. The other is demanding your heart for their satisfaction. Which one should be at the opposite end of the aisle?"

"But that's—"

Santana cut her off with a glare and stalked off, towards the exit of the lunchroom. When she reached the door and turned back to see Rachel pondering her carrot closely, she realized finally something she said had got to her.

'_Mission accomplished,'_ she smirked, leaving the room.

* * *

><p>Brittany laughed into the cold air, rocking on her feet. After a dinner at Pizza Hut, which Santana paid for, she drove them to a Bigg's parking lot. She was especially confused when Santana parked ten feet away from a row of large, blue mailboxes.<p>

Until Santana grabbed a package from the backseat and she saw the printed label for the Musician's Institute. The submission had to be in on Friday and seeing as it was Tuesday, it had to be done. She didn't understand why Santana couldn't have just emailed it like she had originally planned on doing, but didn't question the new turn of events.

They were stuck standing in front of the big, blue box as Santana fiddled with the package. Brittany fought the urge to take it and mail it for her, but decided she needed to do it on her own. Fifteen minutes later that decision started to haunt her.

"Santana," she tried.

With her back turned, Santana answered, "Hmm?"

"It's kind of cold out here."

Santana turned around and smiled apprehensively. "I'm sorry, B. I'm just having a tiny freak out."

Brittany went up and wrapped her arms around Santana's waist, leaning her chin down on her shoulder. "Why?"

"This is huge."

"It'll fit," Brittany assured her.

"No," Santana shook her head, "when I put this in the mail, that means I'm done. It's out of my hands and someone else gets to make the decisions for me."

Brittany kissed her neck. "You don't have to be worried," she whispered into the warm skin, "it was wonderful."

"You have to say that 'cause I'm your girlfriend."

"No I don't," Brittany said. "I could have told you it sucked." Santana turned to her with worried eyes. "No, I'm not saying it did suck. I'm just saying, it if did, I would have told you. I wouldn't let you send something I didn't think was absolutely perfect."

"It wasn't perfect," Santana mumbled.

"Is anything?" Santana shook her head. "Look, we know music. We are surrounded by people who know music and every one of them said it was wonderful. Kurt and Rachel liked it and nothing get's past them."

Santana leaned her head into Brittany's, letting her head slip back into her neck. "Are you sure?"

"I promise. I ultra-pinky promise it's worthy of getting into that school. We all know you can do it, and you just need to know you can do it."

Santana sighed and shut her eyes. "Alright." She opened them and reached forward to open the mailbox. Brittany took over and held it open so Santana could push the package through with two hands. When Brittany let go and the metal slammed shut, Santana exhaled a strangled breath of air.

Brittany smiled at her and said, "Your song is bad."

Santana's head snapped to hers and went back and forth between it and the mailbox. "What?"

"Just kidding."

Santana started shaking her head back and forth and laughed humorlessly. "Unbelievable."

"You believed me."

"I hate you," Santana shouted, slapping her shoulder.

Brittany cowered and ran back towards the car. "Ow! Abuse! I was just kidding!"

* * *

><p>They won Regional's, not surprisingly in Santana's opinion. The most exciting aspect of competition was the newly mandated Troubletones number. Brittany killed it, she killed it, Mercedes brought them home. They weren't expecting to lose, especially after making it to National's the year before. Artie and Rachel had put together two amazing numbers for the New Directions as a whole and Santana had no problems with either selection. There was a reason they let Rachel handle all that crap; because she was good at it.<p>

What was surprising though was her mother's suggestion for a _family_ dinner at Breadstix, one with Brittany's family. They hadn't eaten together in years and especially not since they had come out as a couple. Also, for the first time they'd be mixing words with their combined families after finding out about their moms' history.

Santana felt the underlying heap of anxiety beneath the surprise as her and Brittany got ready in her bedroom. After the competition, she'd driven them back to Brittany's house so they could change out of their dresses and get ready for dinner. Her parents, the Pierce's, and they were all driving separately so she was grateful for the implied out it gave them if something went wrong or awkward. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"Is this going to be weird," Brittany asked, covering her navy blue dress with a cropped gray jacket. Her hair was down in curls, hanging free along her shoulders.

Santana finished smoothing her hair back with a black headband, fixing it out of her eyes. It flowed down in waves onto her chest, relaxed. She didn't want to dress up after being primped for their performance that afternoon, so she put on a pair of grey skinny jeans and a white blouse, finishing the outfit with a maroon blazer rolled up to the elbows for warmth.

"Probably," she answered honestly.

Brittany walked over and looped her arms around Santana's waist, smiling with all of her teeth showing. "If anything strange happens, just keep talking to me. Okay, promise?"

Santana laughed and leaned forward to peck Brittany's nose. "Promise. We can sneak away and make out in a supply closet or something."

"Now we know your plan," Tony's voice came through the slightly open door as he knocked a few times.

Santana's felt the color drain from her face and she sat down in a huff on the bed. Why did he have to harass them if the door wasn't even closed?

"Thanks, dad."

Tony laughed through the opening and told them, "We're getting ready to leave. Your mom and dad are already there, Santana."

"Goodie," she chirped.

Brittany smacked her shoulder and then smiled, dragging her out of the room with one hand on her arm.

Xx

Maria and Victor were already sitting at a table in the middle of the room. Two tables had been pushed together to compensate their party and it reminded Santana of the way they were for the Valentine's party. She and Brittany had followed Anna and Tony most of the way to the restaurant, aside from the one detour that Santana told Brittany was "quicker" but ended up with them being two cars behind Brittany's parents. They had waited for them in the parking lot and, after a tease about driving like Speedy Gonzalez from guess who, the four of them went inside.

Victor stood up and offered his hand to Tony for a handshake that morphed into a full blown hug. Santana and Brittany sat down, watching all of their parents greet each other, especially the timid hug exchanged between Maria and Anna. Santana couldn't remember there ever being any palpable tension from them before, but she also hadn't known everything back then.

"It's been too long," Victor said, clapping Tony on the shoulder across the table as they sat down.

"The girls talk," Tony motioned to their mothers, "but we never get to keep in touch."

"You two should go golfing," Brittany suggested.

Santana chuckled. "Like either of them knows how to golf."

"I'll have you know, I'm an excellent golfist," Tony joked, earning a laugh from his wife and Victor.

Victor sat forward and stage-whispered, "I think she might have caught on."

Santana shook her head exasperatedly. "An exhausting day, followed by an exhausting night."

"Where did my daughter get so much sass," Maria remarked, rearranging the silverware in front of her.

All of the other adults exchanged playful glances and then Anna said softly, "That's a mystery."

Brittany smiled over at Santana and grabbed her hand beneath the table. She was obviously as happy as Santana was that the night had started off without staggering. They were practically eight years old again, sitting on the far end of the table linking pinkies beneath their seats. Maybe for dessert they'd argue over chocolate or cheese-cake.

"I have to say," Tony said from the other side of the table, "you two were incredible today. I've seen you perform before for practically, I don't know, your whole lives, but you were especially amazing."

"Thanks, dad," Brittany said and Santana nodded her gratitude.

"You're welcome."

Victor's face brightened and he turned towards Anna and Tony. "Have either of you heard this kid's song, yet?" He threw a thumb over towards Santana and she blushed, not wanting the attention.

"Song," Anna asked, looking between Brittany and Santana.

"Of course she didn't tell you," Maria exclaimed, "if we wouldn't have found the pamphlets she probably wouldn't have told us either. Santana wrote a song."

"Mama," Santana begged, wanting the subject to be dropped.

"That's incredible," Anna said, beaming Brittany's smile. It warmed Santana's heart as much as it embarrassed her.

"Is it any good," Tony teased, winking at her.

"It's amazing," Brittany effused.

"We'll have to hear it."

"I have it on my laptop."

"Brittany," Santana snapped. She widened her eyeballs, trying to have _some_ control over her own creation.

"Oh come off it, Santana," her mom said. "People are going to start hearing it if you plan on being a professional. You shouldn't be ashamed of your talent. I'm sure Brittany isn't ashamed of how talented she is at dancing."

'_Well Brittany didn't abandon me to work on dancing with another girl,'_ Santana wanted to say, straining against the content fingers surrounding her hand. They wouldn't understand if she said that anyway, so she just kept quiet, turning her head to the opposite side of the room.

While the adults started off on another tangent and the waiter came around for their orders, Santana remained silent. She stated her order simply and then resumed counting the ceiling tiles. She hated her song. It brought them closer and relieved a lot of stress from their relationship, but working on it still caused such problems between them. Brittany had been pulling away subtly since Valentine's Day and if it weren't for their resumed time together, she'd worry about whatever was wrong that day. Even if there was the still lingering feeling in the back of her head that something bad had happened and she was too preoccupied to give it any attention.

"Hey," she heard Brittany whisper in her direction, "Santana."

She turned around with reluctance and didn't even try to smile.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Brittany said with a hesitant smile. "What do you want for dessert?"

She couldn't stop the smile on her face even if she wanted to. "We haven't even got our dinner yet."

"Doesn't hurt to think ahead," Brittany mumbled, winking at her.

"What I want for dessert isn't on the menu."

Brittany's cheeks flashed red and she shot a glance back to their distracted parents. Santana wondered why it used to bother her so much that her parents ignored her a lot of the time; the best things happened when they weren't paying attention.

"I have a feeling that's complimentary," Brittany breathed back.

"Noted," Santana said, leaning over and kissing Brittany's cheek. When she pulled back, she realized all of their parents' eyes were on the two of them. She felt a similar red appear on her own cheeks and sat back in her chair, willing nothing to be said.

"Could you imagine this when we first started these dinners," Tony asked the rest of them.

"Not a chance in hell," Victor answered honestly.

"Dad!"

"Vic!"

"What," he exclaimed, "I'm not saying it's a bad thing! I just didn't expect it."

Unreasonably angry, Santana tilted her head coyly at her mother. "I know the feeling."

Anna's eyes quickly found the table and Maria started wiping her face with a napkin, even though she hadn't eaten anything yet.

Surprisingly, Tony laughed and soon Victor did right along with him. "This is going to be such an interesting family now."

"Got that right," her dad answered, smiling a little less friendly at her.

"Oh look!" Anna pointed away from the table. "Food's here."

"Way to change the subject," Brittany shot under her breath towards Santana.

"Did you _really_ want to keep talking about it," Santana asked incredulously. When Brittany looked over at her with erratic eyes she chuckled. "Thought so."

After all of their food was settled around the table and everyone started in, Santana saw Brittany stumble in her first bite.

"What," she asked, looking at the food in concern checking for glass or a finger or something.

Brittany turned to her with a smile that could have doubled her over. "He said we're a family."

"Yeah," Santana asked, twirling spaghetti around her fork, "so what?"

"All of us," she motioned between them.

Santana realized what she meant when she turned and watched their dads dueling over the last breadstick and their moms discussing the way their food was prepared. They weren't together as family friends now, nurturing the friendship of their daughters to keep a connection. Maria, Tony, Anna, and Victor were bound for life, or for as long as her and Brittany were together.

Which for Santana, meant life.

* * *

><p>She couldn't believe she was really doing it. She couldn't believe she was really on her way Westerville, to try on bridesmaids dresses for Rachel's wedding.<p>

She could believe it if, for instance, she was also trying on a wedding dress. But the fact that she had been lumped into the wedding party, forced to stand on Rachel's side rather than opposite her where an unrightful giant got to stand.

"You alright up there," Santana asked, leaning through the space between the two front seats. Brittany glanced over at her at the same time.

"I'm fine, why," Quinn asked irritably.

"You're just gripping the steering wheel awful tight," Santana answered.

Looking down she saw how white her knuckles had become at ten and two, steering the car along the city street. Quinn let go with one hand and exhaled simultaneously, shaking her hand out to regain feeling.

"I'm fine," she reiterated, keeping her eyes on the road.

Brittany hummed a soft buzzing that she figured was to distract her. It hadn't worked for the first five miles of highway so she didn't understand why it was still going on. The girl had been pretty much ignoring the two of them since Santana got in the car, and she figured it had something to do with what happened between them, but was too stressed out with her current situation to worry about it.

Santana leaned her elbows down on the console to keep her balance from the final turn onto the main stretch of road where The Bridal Emporium sat, a small little boutique shoved between a barbershop and a depleted video store. Quinn saw Rachel and Tina's cars out front and switched on her turn signal to pull into a spot between them. Every inch closer caused her pulse to pound more rapidly.

Even as she shut the car off and Brittany was already out leaning the seat forward for Santana, Quinn sat stagnant and paralyzed by apprehension. She didn't want to get out. Walking in the front door of the bridal shop meant she was admitting defeat and allowing the final touches to happen with her consent. She couldn't storm the justice of the peace's office because she'd already be there, a foot away from her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

A knock on the window jolted her attention. She glanced up and saw Santana hunched over by herself and looking sympathetic.

Opening the window felt like a trial but she managed it, rolling with one apathetic hand.

"It's gonna be okay, you know, Q?"

"How could this possibly be okay?" The words were out of her mouth before she could register them.

"If you want to go all _She's All That _on her, I've got your back."

Quinn shook her head, trying to understand how that was possibly a good analogy.

"She's not getting married at an airport."

Santana reached her hand through the window and flicked Quinn's temple. She recoiled out of the way in anger and yelped.

"Think of her getting married as a great departure. It's a metaphor, and seeing as who _your _girl is, you should know metaphors."

"Can you spell it out for me?" She resigned to her seat in the car, not wanting to even entertain the idea of getting out.

"You're ridiculous," Santana said, turning around and leaning against the car door with her back to Quinn. "Let's see. You don't want her to leave you, forever, so you're running to the gate to stop her. That's you, marching into the building and demanding she not get married. And the rest of it already sort of makes sense if you think about it." Santana sounded like she was having some sort of revelation. "Oh my god! It totally makes sense. You are the jocky douchebag who is too embarrassed to like Rachel, the nerd who nobody pays attention to."

Quinn threw her door open, sending Santana sprawling into Tina's car door as she got up out of the car and leaned against the door where her friend just was. "Shut the hell up, Santana."

"It's the truth," Santana said, turning around with a smug smirk on her face. "But right now it looks like you might just be the dorky friend who wants to be noticed by the hot nerd who is finally with her dream guy."

"How is this helping?"

"I'm trying to get you pissed off enough to take her back before it's too late."

Quinn stole forward off the car. "What don't you get?" Santana flinched as she yelled. "She's not mine anymore, S. She's his and I have to just accept that."

"You're so fucking frustrating, Q."

"Butt out," Quinn demanded. If her and Rachel were supposed to be together, they would be together. She wouldn't be going to a dress fitting for Rachel's wedding. She wouldn't be a second choice and distant memory that Rachel had obviously forgotten.

"I'm done then," Santana said. "Do whatever the hell you want. I just wanted you to be happy."

"I-I am happy."

Santana gave her the most disbelieving looking she'd ever endured and walked away. She was about to turn and follow her when the sight of Rachel stopped her. She was standing in the doorway, looking on with absorbent eyes that told Quinn she'd heard the whole conversation. If the sight of Rachel wasn't enough, the painful expression on her face was worse.

"We, uh," Rachel said loud enough for them to hear, "we're ready to get started."

"Coming," Santana said enjoyably, walking towards the front of the building without a sparing glace towards Quinn.

Quinn followed slowly behind her, heavy steps delaying the process. "Yeah, coming."

Xx

Rachel had chosen a blindingly bright pink for her bridesmaid's dresses. The sight of all of her friends walking around admiring the dress and talking to the seamstresses about alterations had Quinn blending in with the background trying to draw as little attention as possible.

She'd undergone initial measurements with everyone else, but she could care less about tailoring the dress to her specific needs. There wasn't any possible way for her to be comfortable about the wedding in the first place, so making her dress that way wasn't a priority. Tina and Brittany had talked the most excitably about the experience to her when they began, but she figured after all of the dismissive behavior they had all decided to leave her alone. Santana and Mercedes kept to themselves, whispering in hushed voices about the whole situation. She'd overheard Mercedes say "ridiculous" about ten times and Santana seemed to be stuck on the word "idiots" since they walked out of the dressing room.

Quinn was a little relieved Rachel was getting her dress fitted in a room far away from theirs, even if she'd come out a few times to inspect the progress of their dresses. She'd ooo-ed and awed about every little detail when she admired the fit on everyone's bodies except for Quinn's, with who she'd just exchanged an awkward nod across the room. _'I'll stay away from you as long as you stay away from me,'_ Quinn had thought, finding a glass of water to alleviate the suffering feeling of suffocation she'd been experiencing since walking in the front door.

Unfortunately, twenty minutes after her last inspection, Rachel gathered their attention from behind the velvet curtain from which she had kept appearing. Everyone gathered together, Quinn staying towards the back near Santana and Brittany, waiting for her to finally emerge in the dress they'd all been waiting to see. Well, all of them except for one.

"Are you guys ready?"

"Just get your butt out here, girl, we want to see it!"

Quinn took a breath.

Rachel came out from behind the curtain with a woman on either side of her and grinned at all of them with flashing teeth.

Quinn released her breath and felt dizzy.

She was breathtaking in the simple white dress, sleeveless and cut off at the shoulder. Quinn could have cried. Not because of the sight, but because of the memory it evoked.

_Quinn tried to stifle her laughter into the pillow._

"_Why are you laughing," Rachel demanded angrily, hopping onto her back. Her legs fell on either side of Quinn's torso as it shook with strained laughs._

"_It's ugly!"_

"_It's not ugly! Audrey looks very classic and that's the point. She didn't need frills."_

"_First of all, if you're going to like a Hepburn, you need to pick the more talented one." Rachel's knee collided with her side and she jerked to fake throwing her off. "Second," she said through another laugh, "that dress is too plain. There's nothing going on to get excited about."_

"_You're already getting married. What else is there to be excited for?"_

_Quinn flipped over onto her back with Rachel still on top of her, now sitting on her stomach with an adorable frown. _

"_You want people to remember how beautiful you looked."_

"_True beauty isn't about—"_

"—_what's on the outside, yada-yada-yada," Quinn finished with a quirked lip. "I'm just saying, maybe for you it's an ideal dress, but for me it's too simple."_

"_Well than on your wedding day, you can wear an extravagant dress and flutter around capturing everyone's attention and I will be in my ratty simple dress, enjoying the moment with my partner."_

_Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Who's the groom?"_

_Rachel leaned down and piled her arms on Quinn's chest so they were face to face. "I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out." She leaned forward and kissed Quinn once on the lips. "And I never said **groom**."_

Mercedes and Tina rushed forward to fawn over Rachel's dress, making her twirl and show it off. Brittany stood somewhere in the middle, admiring the dress from afar, but keeping a wary eye backwards. Santana hadn't moved, because Quinn's nails digging into her arm kept her in place.

Before she could even make the move to leave, Santana was dragging her backwards towards the dressing rooms. A departing glance meant Brittany wouldn't be coming, and Quinn cursed herself for creating awkwardness between them. She really needed the both of them.

Santana pulled her into a single changing room. Quinn stood stock-still as she turned around and locked the door. When she turned around, there was barely a second before Santana's arms were around her in a bone-crushing hug. She felt one shallow heartbeat before she was clawing into Santana's back holding her there for support.

She hated everything. She hated high school, she hated Finn, she hated Cheerio's. She hated all of it. Everything that kept her from Rachel for so long and still did. Most of all, she hated herself. If she could go back and slap her freshman self for being such an ignorant bitch, she would. If it would change anything she would have gone back and never dated Finn or Sam. She would have told Rachel everything from the start and hopefully they would have ended up together. Or not, but at least she would have tried.

Quinn wished there was something to make everything seem worth it. She wished pining after Rachel for years wouldn't have been for nothing and they still had a chance. Anything. Absolutely anything.

"Quinn," Santana was sitting back and brushing through her hair as she slumped down against the wall in defeat, "I need to tell you something."

"Right now, S?"

"It's important."

Quinn banged her head against the wood wall, trying to feel something. "What?"

"She never slept with him."

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed and she brushed through rogue tears that had pulled at the bottom of her jaw. "What?"

"Rachel. She never, you know" she shrugged her shoulders, "with Finn."

"I-I don't—what? Why does that matter?"

Santana shook her head. "It doesn't but I think you'll be interested in the reason why."

"Okay"

Santana smiled sadly. "She said it never felt like the right time. And she couldn't go through with it."

"But," she didn't understand, "they're getting married."

"And she's going to have sex with him, finally, because she feels like she owes it to him."

Sadness turning to anger, Quinn retorted, "She doesn't owe him shit." Taking a second to understand her feelings, she glared at Santana. "Are you just trying to make me mad again?"

"Is it working," Santana asked hopefully.

"Yes."

"Then, go to the airport."

"I hate you," Quinn said as she stood up in a flash.

"I hate you too, bitch," Santana said, moving out of the way.

Quinn marched through the building with new vitality. She had a reason.

When she went back to the main room, the only two people left were Brittany and Rachel. Santana was hot on her heels and went over to Brittany before Rachel had noticed either of them there. With hesitant steps, Quinn approached Rachel just as Santana and Brittany were leaving.

Rachel caught her eye in the mirror and turned around with a wary smile, until she saw the tear tracks on her face.

"Quinn? What's wrong?"

Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Just about everything."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Quinn took a few more steps forward so she was only about a foot away from Rachel. She tried to ignore the pang in her heart from seeing the dress again.

"You're getting married."

Rachel said awkwardly, "But that's a good thing—"

"Are we really going to play that game right now," Quinn shot out heatedly.

"This isn't really a good time, Quinn. You're a little late."

"It's not too late to stop you from making a huge mistake."

"Stop calling it a mistake," Rachel screamed. "It's not a mistake." Quinn was confused because it was the first time she'd called it that to Rachel's face.

"Why are you even doing this?"

"Because Finn wants to marry me. He **loves** me enough to want to finalize our lives together."

"So you'll sleep with him," Quinn stated surely.

"What?" Rachel sputtered, "T-that's not, did Santana tell you that?"

"That doesn't matter if it doesn't make it any less true."

Rachel set her mouth in a firm line and stared at her. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything. I'm actually going to give you something, something that you wanted for a long time. Something that from the sounds of it, should be the only thing that matters to you."

"And what would that be?"

Quinn steadied her herself, casting one glance into the mirror at herself, before affirming herself with a subtle nod.

"I love you."

Rachel's face fell, from shock or sadness Quinn couldn't tell. When she started yelling, Quinn figured shock.

"Are you kidding me, right now?"

"I am sincerely, one hundred percent not kidding. I _love _you. I have loved you and I probably always will love you."

"You don't get to just say that to me!"

"Why not? I'm just being honest with you." Quinn felt her eyes filling with tears and willed them to go away. She really did _not_ need to cry.

"Because you said it yourself, Quinn. I'm getting _married."_

Quinn shrugged her shoulders again and nodded. "You know, while we're on this whole honesty thing, I'm not sure I want you to marry Finn and ruin your life either."

Rachel stepped down from the ledge in front of the mirror and got in her face. If it weren't for the gravity of the situation, Quinn thought it might have actually been pretty cute.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You don't get to tell me how to live my life." She poked Quinn hard in the chest, the ache resonating next to the one in her heart. "You don't get to just do this to people!"

"Do what," Quinn shouted, pushing her hand away. "Tell you how I feel about you when you're slipping away from me?" Quinn put both hands on Rachel's neck, gently holding her still. "I won't let that happen again."

Rachel fought out of her hands. "You didn't have me. I can't be slipping away when I wasn't ever with you. This isn't fair." Rachel's voice broke on the last word and she started crying. "You c-cant come in here and use that against me."

"Use what," Quinn asked.

"That you _love_ me, Quinn. You love me? You've never said that to me. Not once," she wiped at her face, "and now you use it as a bargaining chip."

Quinn grabbed her wrists. "That's not what I'm doing, Rachel. I just don't how else to stop this before it gets out of hand." The conversation wasn't going right. Rachel shouldn't be crying, she should be happy. They shouldn't still be arguing.

"You don't have the right to stop anything. We were together for five months. I've been with Finn for a few years."

"How does that make a difference? You're saying you couldn't have possibly loved me more than you love him in those few months?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. What we had was wonderful but it was fleeting."

"It was taken from us."

"Not it wasn't, Quinn," Rachel said breathlessly. "_You_ threw it away."

She took a breath and battled the tears again.

Quinn grasped for the right words. She needed to switch it up and get them back on track. Back on what was important.

"He can't love you more than I love you."

Rachel's face fell again and with a broken smile, she touched Quinn's cheek with one hand. "And while that may be true, it doesn't change the fact that I love Finn," Rachel said. "I'm marrying Finn. I'm sorry but," she paused, "It was already too late before you rushed back in here."

Nothing had hurt as much as that admission. That she had failed before she'd even tried. When was it too late? When Rachel showed up on Valentine's Day with a ring? Or was it back when Rachel walked past her in that hotel room? Was it prom?

But it didn't really matter when it was. Because for Quinn it was too late. And for Finn the time was just right. She couldn't help but feel like something had been stolen from her.

She looked at the ground, attempting to take a steadying breath. Rachel had been silent for a long minute, so she figured that was the end of it. She'd tried her hardest and failed. That's all she wanted of herself. To have tried.

"Alright," Quinn said quietly. "I get it."

"Quinn," Rachel answered, just as softly.

"No, Rach, I get it. We're over; we've been over for a long. This was a mistake."

Quinn couldn't even look at her. She couldn't bear that sympathetic smile or frown or whatever it would be. She only wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Without another word, she turned and rushed from the room. She expected an attendant to stop her and ask her to remove the dress, but then remembered Rachel had probably already paid for them. That only made her more upset.

When she got outside, she noticed Brittany and Santana weren't by the car where she had expected them to be. But when she saw Tina's car, she felt like leaving them wasn't too horrible of a decision. They would have to understand the circumstances.

She walked solemnly to her car and sat down in the driver's seat. She fought with herself to stop staring at the front of the building wishing someone would come out rushing to stop her. After a minute of that she twisted the key in the ignition and backed up out of her spot.

On her way out of town, Quinn realized she didn't know exactly how to get home. Paper directions they had used to get there sat on the floor of the passenger seat and she glanced around the road before deciding to lean over and retrieve them.

* * *

><p>Given the circumstances, making out in the dressing rooms wasn't a particularly classy move on Brittany and Santana's part. But Santana had insisted the second she saw Brittany out of her dress—a condition of changing together—and she obliged happily. She didn't know what was going on in the other room between Rachel and Quinn, but with Santana's roaming hands she hadn't had much time to consider it.<p>

Out of the cramped room and heading towards the front room of the building, they came across Rachel exiting the room across the hallway. Santana glanced at her nervously and Brittany kept an eye out for Quinn, but there was no sign of her.

"Where's Q," Santana asked Rachel, who was walking shakily towards one of the changing rooms.

"She left," Rachel said simply as she closed the door behind her.

"Great," Santana said, "so now we're stranded here."

Brittany could tell how hard she was fighting to put up an indifferent front to Rachel's ghostly appearance and Quinn's departure. She was doing the same thing by avoiding Rachel's stare. If she didn't look, the devastation on her face wasn't as clear.

"I can give you two a ride," Rachel said through the wood door. "I'll just be a minute."

"You don't have to do that," Brittany said back.

"Yes she does," Santana mumbled and Brittany gave her a look.

"It's okay. I want to. You're here for me, so it would be rude for me to not offer you a ride."

Rachel opened the door and came out in a lavender sweatshirt and jeans, the slip from her dress hung up on a bar in the back of the larger bride's dressing room. They had taken the actual dress off her in the other room but since her clothes were back where everyone had changed, she had to change back there.

"Thanks," Santana said when she saw her. Brittany only smiled, not trusting her voice.

She felt really bad for Quinn and seeing Rachel was making her a little angry. If Quinn had left without a word, nothing had gone the way it was supposed to and Brittany hated that. She wanted them to get over themselves and just be together. She'd wanted that since fifth grade.

"Let's go then," Rachel said, slipping her purse over her arm.

They followed her out into the car and Brittany climbed into the backseat silently. She wished the ride home would go as fast as possible, but from the way Rachel drove, it would probably be a while. Santana flipped through the radio while Rachel took them along the path to get home. She was happy Rachel had a GPS, because they had been relying on outdated directions she'd printed off Mapquest. She couldn't even remember where she'd dropped them; the floor maybe.

About a mile down the road, she started to see flashing lights and a line of traffic. Santana hadn't seen that far and only realized the traffic. Rachel didn't seem to notice anything.

"What is this bullshit?"

"It looks like an accident," Brittany said distractedly, trying to see farther up the road. They cars were moving slowly and they were getting closer and closer every second.

"Holy hell," Santana said. "Look at that truck. It's smashed to shit."

"It looks bad," Brittany amended. "Where's the other car?"

The car slammed to a screeching halt and they all bobbed forward from the brake-check Rachel had put them through.

Santana grabbed her neck and scowled over at Rachel. "What the hell, Berry?"

Brittany didn't have time to react before she saw what Rachel saw. The Cheerio's sticker on the other smashed car, deep in a ravine on the side of the road.

A red Volkswagen Beetle.

Quinn's car.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: It's the last one, I promise :( **

**You had to know it was coming.**

**I don't know if a lot of you have tumblr or whatever, but I just posted the url to mine in my profile if you wanna bother me on there. Or not...**


	50. it's home to me

"Quinn!" A rough pounding on the bedroom door startled her awake and she lifted her head up to inspect the room. It wasn't her room, or at least she didn't think it was her room. There were clothes everywhere on the floor, clothes much too small for her body and she skeptically picked up a bra off the ground with the arm she had hanging over one edge of the bed. With tired movements, she juggled the cup until she could find the size and saw it was way too tiny to fit her boobs.

Quinn dropped it on the ground and turned over in the bed so her face was to the ceiling. The tiny holes were nonexistent and she decided there was no way it was her bedroom. The pounding on the doors started again and this time she heard more clearly, Brittany's voice.

"Quinn! C'mon!" The noise was silenced in a decrescendo as she imagined someone dragging her away from the door. Santana probably.

"She really wants you awake."

Quinn's head snapped to the side and she almost had a heart attack seeing Rachel's smiling face in such close proximity to her own. "Ra-Rachel?"

Rachel laughed and then rolled over, hooking a leg over her waist. "Wow, we didn't even drink that much last night, sweetie."

Nothing made sense. The bed wasn't hers, and as long as it had been since she'd been in Rachel's, she knew it wasn't hers either.

"W-What?"

Rachel shuffled up her body, lifting herself with one elbow to hover over Quinn. Rachel's presence intoxicated her and she almost felt a tiny bit suffocated.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," Quinn answered awkwardly.

When Rachel leaned down and kissed her, she knew something had to be wrong. Rachel didn't kiss her anymore. Rachel kissed Finn.

Why were tiny, soft, wonderful lips gliding against hers then?

Rachel licked her bottom lip and then sat up. "I can't be easy today. It's date night."

"Date night?"

Rachel sat up with a frown and eyed her suspiciously. "Did you forget? Quinn! It's one night a week, you have to remember things like this."

"I remember," Quinn assured her. She was surprised that it didn't even feel like a lie. Subconsciously she must have remembered. "S and I have something fun planned for the both of you."

"Yay," Rachel squealed and pounced back down on her, lips smoothing over her neck tenderly. "I knew you didn't forget. It's hard to be secretive when we all live together."

"Tell me about it," Quinn said. The words came out without her knowledge and she frowned, or at least she thought she did. Rachel hadn't noticed.

"Well I'm going to hop in the shower, and no you can't join," her eyes sparkled mischievously and Quinn felt something settle low in her stomach, "because you need to go plot with Santana."

"I don't plot," Quinn protested. "Not in a long time."

"Trust me," Rachel agreed. "I know that for a fact."

"I thought we worked past all of that in high school, Rach." _'High school?'_ Quinn thought.

"And I thought," Rachel leaned forward as she spoke, "we were past you using my name like a buffer."

"I'm sorry, baby." Quinn titled up so she could capture Rachel's lips and was pleased by the way they felt against hers that time. The delicious humming in the back of Rachel's throat only coaxed her into continuing the kiss, not feeling like she was getting enough back. Kissing Rachel always left her wanting more, she figured.

"No, we can't keep kissing," Rachel snapped, sitting up. "If you keep kissing me, I'll fall back out of the very few clothes I managed to put back on and we both need to get ready."

"Fine," Quinn groaned, sitting up. She glanced down and saw she already had on a dilapidated _Yale_ t-shirt, yellow and faded.

"I'll be in the shower," Rachel told her, getting up and walking across the room to their en suite bathroom. Rachel turned around when she got inside the tiny room and winked at her once, sending another blaze of fire down into the pit of Quinn's stomach.

Quinn shook her head with a crazed smile and got up from the bed. Filtering through Rachel's mess of clothing she managed to find a pair of her checkered sleep shorts. As she stumbled into them, she noticed how blurred her vision was and waved a hand in front of her face to test her eyesight. Rachel hadn't been blurry before she figured it had something to do with her lack of glasses. She scrambled around the room looking for her old pair of thick rimmed lenses, but only found a pair of rectangle framed ones. She knew Rachel didn't have sight problems, and figuring they had to be hers, she slipped them on and was surprised by the sudden clarity of the room. For the first time, she found the floor mirror near the bed and crossed the room to look in it.

Her hair seemed shorter than it had last time she looked in the mirror, whenever that was. The strands weren't even touching her neck, kind of how it was when she first took the scissors to it in New York the year before. Or wait, in high school.

Another hand hit their door and she abandoned gazing into the mirror to answer it. She opened it inward and found Santana standing with a frustrated look on her face. Her hair was shorter, touching her shoulders but not leading past them and she had on a pair of similar frames, only they were brown where hers were black.

The room she peered into was huge, a lot of area filled with specific furnishings, tailored to give it the most homey feeling possible. She thought she remembered arguing with Santana about the placement of her book shelf and then dismissed the idea, not caring enough to remember it. On the black cushioned sofa she thought she saw the back of Brittany's ponytail bobbing along to whatever music was coming from the television.

"Bout friggin time," Santana complained.

"I didn't know you were waiting for me," Quinn said honestly.

"Bullshit, you didn't know." Santana leaned into her and whispered, "It's Tuesday idiot, please tell me you didn't forget."

The music in background had a rhythmic beating and she couldn't place the tune. A high pitched beeping played over top of it that she found rather annoying and persistent.

"I didn't," Quinn answered, like she had to Rachel.

"Good, we're going to the zoo first so hurry up. Is your midget showering without you? That's new."

Quinn looked back into their room distractedly. "Yeah, I guess so. Wait, do you know why she was in my room?" Santana stared at her. "What about Finn?"

Santana's mouth fell open. "F-finn?" She started laughing obnoxiously, hunched over herself and holding her side. "What the hell are you talking about? Finn who?"

"Hudson," Quinn insisted.

Santana rapped her knuckles against Quinn's head. It stung a lot more sharply than it seemed like it would have. "You okay in there? You haven't seen the jolly green giant in years, Q. Not since he stumbled over his feet at Mr. Schue's wedding and we all made fun of him."

"So she didn't marry him?"

"Emma? No, Ms. Pillsbury is now creepily Mrs. Schuester. It's been what, three years?"

"Three years," she heard Brittany confirm from across the room.

Quinn put a hand on her forehead and took a deep breath. "What? No, I mean Rachel and Finn."

"What about them?"

"They didn't get married?"

Santana looked grossly confused. "Why would Rachel marry Finn Hudson? They weren't even that good of friends after they screwed around sophomore year. Are you okay, Q? Seriously, you're kind of freaking me out."

Quinn remembered that, she thought. Quinn broke up with him after Rachel confirmed the true father of her baby for him. Or something similar to that.

"Right, okay, whatever. When are we leaving?"

"An hour. Get some coffee in you before you freak out B." As Santana waved her away, she wore she saw a gold wedding band around her finger, but dismissed it.

"Quinn!" Rachel's voice shouted behind her and she whipped around peering into the room. "Where is she! Quinn!" Quinn glanced back and saw Brittany and Santana going about their business like Rachel wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs somewhere in the apartment.

When she ran forward through the door, her blink excessively blacked things out.

On the other side of the threshold, she saw an exhibit full of penguins. Rachel's arms were suddenly around her waist and Quinn leaned back into them, enjoying the warmth against her back.

"I want to adopt a penguin." Rachel was standing behind her in a gray and black, wide-striped sweatshirt. Her dark denim skinny jeans were tucked into mid-calf imitation leather boots. Quinn had obviously changed into a grey graphic-t and black skirt, covered in a white denim jacket.

"You can't adopt a penguin, genius," Santana supplied from the spot where she was behind Brittany on the fence next to them. Brittany was in a flowery sun-dress and jean jacket, Santana in white skinny jeans and a teal blouse.

"Shut up, Santana. If I want a penguin I can have one."

"Be nice," Brittany chided Rachel softly, nuzzling back into Santana's shoulder. "She can have a penguin if she wants, S."

"They don't dole out penguins to just anyone. They have to be kept in a specific habitat."

"I'm not _just_ anyone," Rachel started and Quinn chuckled in front of her. Rachel's fingers slid between hers on the green fence. The day was nice around them and they were far from alone in the Central Park zoo. The sign was a little confusing at first, but with the day she was having, Quinn decided to roll with the punches. Even if they were hitting particularly hard. Seriously, was someone punching her in the chest?

"Broadway doesn't count, Berry."

"Rachel Berry?" A high pitched voice resonated behind them and they all turned around to see two teenage girls staring at the four of them incredulously. "Santana—Brittany Lopez? Q-Quinn Fabray? I can't believe all four of you are here together."

"I know it's hard to believe but people can actually have friends when they—" Brittany's elbow caught Santana in the stomach.

"We're huge fans. Of all of you."

Quinn heard Santana mumble, "Well that's convenient."

"Can we have autographs?"

Quinn felt a little uncomfortable with how closely the girls were regarding her and Rachel, but the other three of them didn't seem to be phased at all. Both girls held out napkins and after Santana's comment of "swanky," all four of them signed their names for the two of them. Denise and Rebecca thanked them—Rachel was persistent enough to know their names and their favorite shows of hers—and went on their way.

"I don't know if I'll get used to that," Quinn admitted, putting both hands on Rachel's shoulders and pulling her backwards so their bodies were together again.

Rachel's head twisted around and she looked up at her in confusion. "You haven't said that in forever. Not since…"

"A Way in the Life," Brittany filled in, all of them except Quinn nodding in agreement. She didn't know what that was, but somehow they all associated it with her.

"The kid that wrote that was wonderful," Santana said, turning back towards the penguin habitat, Brittany settling next to her, intertwining their fingers.

"I think you mean he wrote it wonderfully," Rachel told her.

"No," Santana said, smirking towards her, "_he_ was wonderful. He had _quality_ pot the one day I visited the set."

"Santana!" Rachel went forward and covered her mouth with one hand. Santana ripped it away and sputtered in disgust.

"Don't touch me weirdo. We made that rule years ago."

"Oh, you don't want me to touch you," Rachel taunted, putting her finger closer and closer to Santana's shoulder.

Brittany stepped away and stood at Quinn's side, the two of them watching with matching smirks.

"Berry, I'm serious don't touch me."

Rachel stepped forward and tapped Santana's cheek with her one finger and smirked triumphantly.

"Don't hurt her, S," Quinn warned before Santana had time to get in an unfair blow.

"Advise your hobbit to stop before I break something of hers."

"We don't control each other," Rachel asserted, looking back at Quinn for support. "Right?"

Quinn glanced at Brittany and rolled her eyes. "Right."

"Santana likes being controlled," Brittany said flatly, earning good-hearted laughs from Rachel and Quinn.

"Brittany!"

While Santana was distracted, Rachel landed a rough poke to her stomach. Fuming, Santana turned on her and shoved Rachel backwards. Quinn moved to catch her before she fell and ended up with a hard elbow in her stomach.

The flash of the Central Park Zoo sign morphed in her vision and she wore it spelled out emergency. Quinn hunched over and grabbed her stomach where it felt like something had burned her insides on the impact of Rachel's elbow.

When Quinn looked back up, she was back in their bedroom in the apartment. Santana was leaning against the door which was threatening to be pushed open and she smirked at hearing Rachel's pleas.

"Let me in, Santana. This is _my_ room!"

"Babe," Brittany voice came through the door too, "you should really let Rach in her room so she can get dressed. We're gonna miss the reservations."

"You don't have to tell us that, B. Me especially, Q, right? I made the damn thing!"

Quinn shouted back, "Just give us a minute, guys." She rushed forward and whispered to Santana, "Don't let them in yet. I have to show you something."

"I can hear you whispering, Quinn. I've conditioned my hearing and I can tell there were low vibrations on the other side of this door."

"Wanky," Santana said teasingly.

"If you know I'm whispering than go away, Rachel! It's a secret." The door thumped one more time and she urged Santana, "Don't let them in, S, we're not ready yet."

"Britts, please take the munchkin to the opposite side of the apartment. I'll buy you a present!"

"What kind of present," Brittany asked through the wood.

"Whatever you want, babe. I don't care."

"Deal."

"Brittany! Let go!" The tension on the door eased up and they heard the commotion of Brittany supposedly taking Rachel across the room. "Put me down!" Yep, Quinn thought. She was definitely moved.

"So what's the big surprise," Santana asked as they walked away from the door.

Quinn lost her balance for a second when the feeling in her leg went numb. "Whoa," she mumbled, grabbing Santana's hand for balance. "Thanks." She let go and moved to her top dresser drawer.

She extracted a velvety maroon box and showed it to Santana, who rushed forward enthusiastically to take it from her hand.

Santana opened it and her mouth fell, eyes sparkling as much as the five set stones in the ring. The outer two were emerald, Quinn's birthstone, the inner two a bright blue tanzanite, Rachel's, and the center a canary diamond.

"Holy shit, that's one hell of a rock. Why all the colors?"

"You'll have to ask Rachel. I found it in her marriage box, or whatever, a few months ago. They were all very accurate specifications, so I didn't have a lot of leeway." Quinn shrugged taking the box back. "I'm glad the other color was emerald, or else I'd think she planned on marrying someone else."

"Like that loser has ever been interested in someone else since the moment you told her everything."

Quinn frowned. "You can't call my future wife a loser."

"Time to go," a weird voice called through the closed door.

Santana didn't seem startled by the unknown voice. "Got it," Santana shouted back. "Well, good luck and give me some sort of signal when you want me and the Mrs. to ditch you and Berry."

"What are you going to call her when you can't say Berry anymore?"

Santana put a finger on her temple and appeared to be thinking. "Honestly. I don't feel like I'll have to worry about it. There's always her stage name." With a wicked grin, Santana winked at her. "I won't, Q. It'll be okay."

"What'll be okay?"

Santana shrugged. "Everything."

Quinn turned around and the room got dark around her. She saw her previously made bed, now unkempt and housing a very naked Rachel, clothed in only a sheet.

"Coming back to bed, Mrs. Berry?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose and stepped nearer the bed, leaning one knee down against it next to Rachel. "I don't like how that sounds."

"Me either," Rachel admitted, laughing. Quinn brought her other leg down and leaned forward so she was in between Rachel's legs, the sheet the only thing separating them. She crawled forward on her elbows until she was entirely on top of Rachel, hovering above her similar to how Rachel had been that morning. Was it that morning, or the morning before? Quinn couldn't remember and her head was swimming.

"What's going on in your pretty blonde head," Rachel asked, lolling Quinn's head back and forth with two hands.

Quinn shook her off and leaned forward to kiss Rachel, trapping her top lip, remembering how sweet it tasted after not kissing her in so long.

Wait, what?

"Wonderful, fabulous thoughts about you and I," Quinn whispered against Rachel's mouth.

"What about us?"

"How I can't wait to wake up every day next to you."

Rachel laughed, fingers dancing along Quinn's arm. "You already do that."

"Uhm," Quinn hummed as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, "how about waking up to my gorgeous wife every day."

"Technically, you already do that, but I'll let it slide." Rachel pecked her lips. "Anything else."

"How I'm really happy you didn't marry Finn." Quinn reached down and grabbed Rachel's left hand, bringing it in front of her eyes and seeing it empty.

Rachel didn't even falter the way Santana had when she brought up Finn and something felt wrong. "I've never been so happy to see you breathing."

Quinn laughed oddly. "I always breathe. It's kind of an everyday thing."

"I'm very sorry, Quinn."

"Sorry for what, Rachel?" She ran her fingers through Rachel's long brunette hair, happy she never had the urge to cut it how the rest of them did. Well except Brittany. "You make every day worth living."

"I have something to tell you, but it can wait until morning."

"I'm awake now."

"No you're not."

Quinn sat up and stared down at Rachel, confused by what she meant. She was awake she could feel Rachel underneath her.

"I don't get it."

"I'll be here." Rachel's voice went out like it was being muffled and she kissed Quinn's fingers. "I'll be here."

"I hope so," Quinn said, letting her head drift down onto Rachel's chest, content to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Blinding sunlight poured through an unknown source and when Quinn tried to stretch her right arm to block it out, she whimpered in pain. The shooting ache coursed up her arm and through her collarbone. She fought to open her eyes and felt like someone had pushed air into her cheeks, making it an obscenely difficult task. Wherever she was felt incredibly uncomfortable, a huge weight on her legs making them impossible to move. There was also the airy quality of someone's snores filling her ears and she painstakingly recognized them as belonging to someone they possibly couldn't.<p>

Finally getting her eyes open enough to look around the room, Quinn took in her surroundings, able to identify what appeared to be a dimly lit hospital. A flash of red rushed to her head, searing her vision and making her force out a delicate cry of pain, soft enough to hopefully not wake the room's other occupant. Maybe she was in one of those double rooms, with another patient. That made sense until she looked around and saw both walls around her.

Why was she in the hospital?

Quinn picked her head up against her body's tense protest and got a clear look at her body, wrapped up in gauze and both legs casted. She realized why she couldn't move her arm before, noticing the navy sling pinning it to her chest. Her face was definitely swollen and she could feel a painful cut on her head when she tried to change expressions.

More importantly, her new angle afforded Quinn the ability to see where the light snores were coming from. On her left side, she saw Rachel Berry fast asleep in a chair, her head craned so it lay next to their hands, cupped together loosely. She couldn't tell if her hand hurt or not but Rachel had obviously been careful about the way their skin wouldn't actually touch if one of them had jarred in their sleep.

Sleep. Her dreams started to make more sense and she realized it was a manufactured product of her traumatized brain being sympathetic and providing her with a final image of happiness in case she hadn't survived whatever put her in the hospital. From the extent of her apparent injuries, it had to be something serious.

When Quinn picked up her hand to test out _that_ arm's ability to move, Rachel's hand caught her eye. Not because she was distracted by the engagement's ring's stunning quality, or that the light had caught it in a sparkling reflection.

But mostly because it wasn't there.

Rachel's hand was empty.

And Quinn's only thought was, "Oh."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Now you know why you get two :)  
><strong>


	51. i can't take this feeling anymore

**A/N: Hiya :) Sorry about the twenty or thirty minute wait between these chapters. I know it must have been _exhausting_. But here's this one. A note that everything happening in the middle, Kurt, Santana, and Rachel are also supposed to be going on within a similar time frame. I think it's done pretty clearly, but I just want to make sure you guys know what's going on.**

********As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!********

**Enjoy :)  
><strong>

* * *

><p>With the flashing lights and crowd of onlookers, Santana had a hard enough time keeping her own head above water. But after dragging Brittany back from the ambulance doors, crying and fighting against her arms, she'd met her match with a comatose Rachel in the driver seat. She was about two minutes away from forcibly removing her from the car so she could drive. The ambulance was about to leave anyway, and they needed to follow as quickly as possible.<p>

Rachel's initial reaction surpassed Brittany's by far.

_A stretcher was being dragged from the back doors of the ambulance towards where Quinn's car was off the side of the road and before Santana had time to stop her, Rachel threw the door open, rushing towards the crash site. By the time she and Brittany were out of the car, a police officer had grabbed Rachel by the shoulders and was trying to hold her still. _

"_Miss, you need to calm down," he said calmly, struggling to keep Rachel in place._

_Santana put an arm around Brittany and walked on unsteady legs towards the scene, trying her best to keep it together. Her companions weren't going to be level-headed and she kept a tentative eye on Brittany, waiting for an impending outburst._

"_Quinn!" Rachel was still struggling, huffing, and tears were streaming from her eyes. "Where is she? Quinn!"_

_When Santana was close enough she caught Rachel around the arm and tugged to get her attention. Rachel looked back at her but she could tell there wasn't a sane person still to see her. _

"_Rachel," Santana eased, "it's okay. I'm sure she's fine, calm down."_

_Distracted enough by Santana's attempt at comfort, the police officer must have loosened his hold on Rachel because within a second she was past him running towards the ravine on the side of the road. Santana took off towards her but stopped when she got past the cop and saw Rachel standing still, staring with her hands fallen at the sides._

"_What is it," Brittany yelled, concern and confusion lacing every breath in her words._

_Santana tried to remember the original color of Rachel's bridesmaid's dresses because the sickening red smeared across what they saw of Quinn's tainted her original memory. Her face was obscured by a brace keeping her body straight, but even if it wasn't, the speed at which the paramedics were rushing her back towards the ambulance made it hard to see anything at all. She supposed Rachel had a clearer image of what she looked like up close, but that would have required her to say something._

"Rachel, you need to drive or you need to let me drive," Santana coaxed from outside the open door. Her knees were crunching against the hard, graveled shoulder on the side of the road, but there were more pressing pains to deal with. If she didn't get Rachel out of the seat, Quinn would be at the hospital by herself. From what the cop had told her and Brittany, it didn't seem like they'd be seeing her anytime soon, but she knew someone should have been there for her regardless.

She looked past Rachel's empty face and saw Brittany curled up into herself in the passenger seat, knees up against her chest and facing out the other window. Her eyes were still leaking tears with abandon; she'd wipe them away every few minutes, but Santana could tell it was calming her by letting them gather for a while in between that. She couldn't imagine anything would work to calm her down. Years of practice with the wall had proven in her favor over the last, she checked the clock and saw only fifteen minutes had passed, it felt like an hour, or two even. It'd only been five minutes since they finished talking to the officer and she'd helped Brittany back to the car. Rachel had already been there.

"_She's sustained multiple injuries," the cop had told them, warily looking between her and Brittany. He knew he wasn't supposed to be telling them anything, but after Santana had demanded answers, threatening his job and likewise, he gave them the basics. "There wasn't anything they could do right now. She wasn't conscious when they finally got the door off the car. We just have to transport her as soon as possible and hope for the best." He needed to work on his 'bad news' smile because it only made her feel worse._

_That's when Brittany stormed the ambulance. As with Rachel, Santana didn't have time to process her mad dash quick enough to stop her. Brittany pounded on the back of the ambulance with her fists, crying and screaming Quinn's name. The officer put a hand on her shoulder to keep her there and calmly walked over to Brittany, approaching cautiously and grabbing her around the waist. He fought with her on the way back to Santana and tried to calm her down with more of his 'comforting' words. _

_When Brittany was close enough, Santana took her from him and wrapped her up, whispering to her about how it would be okay. Even if she didn't necessarily believe the words coming from her mouth, and Brittany could probably tell their futility, they both could recognize that they would have to suffice for the time being. _

_The last thing he asked them was if there was any particular hospital they would prefer her be transported to, though they had to consider whatever was closest was a more likely probability. Santana didn't care because she knew the closest hospital was Lima General and that meant her father would be there. _

"C'mon, Berry, I need you to move. Just for a second." Without wasting any more time, Santana reached into the car and grabbed Rachel's arm, pulling her softly out of the car. Surprisingly, she followed obediently and Santana had her in the backseat within a minute. She tapped the seatbelt and Rachel understood to put it on so she stood up and shut the door.

An exhausted breath left her lips and she stiffened her jaw before climbing into the driver's seat of Rachel's car. She started the car and glanced up to see the cop waving her on in a signal to follow him. A space through the traffic had been cleared and she followed him through the crowd of cars. Far off in the distance in front of them she could see the ambulance speeding through traffic, lights whirring. She hated that she could still hear the siren even though they were too far away to actually be hearing it. That paired with Brittany's soft whimpers, Rachel's unbearable silence, and her own static heart was enough to cry.

But she couldn't do that. There were two other people in the car that she had to be strong for. Even if she'd never felt more weak.

Santana reached into her pocket as she drove and pulled out her cell phone. She paused to remember what speed dial her father was, before opening the number-pad and selecting eight. There hadn't ever been a time when she'd needed to use his emergency work number, so she hoped it hadn't been disconnected. After a few deafening rings, the call picked up and his voice came through thick and low through the receiver.

"Santana? I'm about to go in a meeting, can I call you—"

"Dad," she said simply, aware of how frightened she sounded. He must have been able to tell too.

"What's going on? Is your mother okay?"

Santana gripped the steering wheel and cleared her throat. "It's not mom. It's…" she took a breath to alleviate the anchor in her chest. "It's Quinn."

"What happened?" She heard mumbling in the background that was silenced by a rough grumble from his lips.

"She got in a car accident, and she's—"

"What? Honey, are you okay? Was anyone else hurt?"

"No, she was by herself, but she was hurt really bad, dad. We're following the ambulance now."

"Are they bringing her here," he asked.

"Yeah." She could feel the tears brimming around her eyes and forced herself to take another deep breath. In a quiet voice she pleaded, "Please be there dad. Don't let anyone else take her."

"Santana, I don't know if I can do that. There's a system here that—"

"Dad," she yelled, regretting it from the way Brittany jumped in the passenger seat. Lowering her voice again, she said, "Just please, do this for me?"

He was quiet except for an exhausted sigh. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"When you get here, call your mother. You hear me? Have her call Judy. Is anyone else with you?"

"Yeah, it me, Brittany," she glanced in the back seat as she talked and saw Rachel still staring at the back of her headrest, "and Rachel."

"Please be careful. Alright?"

She nodded even though he couldn't see her and simultaneously gripped the steering wheel even tighter. "Yeah, I got it."

"I'll try to see you when you get here." He was rustling with papers and dismissing people in the background of the call and then he stopped all of a sudden. "I love you, kid."

In a strained voice, she answered, "I love you too."

The fact that her dad would be there to receive Quinn calmed just a tiny fraction of her worry. She knew he was a respected surgeon in their community, and her friend would be certainly in capable hands. Although from what she heard the paramedics saying and the police officer's reluctance to tell her anything, she knew capable hands didn't necessarily mean a positive outcome. It was hard to stay positive with no one around to comfort _her._

The clammy hand in her lap was suddenly warmed and she glanced down to see Brittany's fingers begging to slide between hers. She took no time in securing their hands together, putting her eyes back on the road. If she had to see Brittany's broken face one more time, she knew she'd lose it. It was only ten more minutes to the hospital anyway. They all needed time to prepare for what awaited them there.

Santana just focused on breathing, knowing there wouldn't be time for it later.

* * *

><p><strong>(4:57 PM) Santana Lopez:<strong> Quinn's in the hospital. Rachel's screwed up, get Finn here. Please come soon.

Kurt reread the message two or three times to make sure Santana wasn't messing with him. The message was weird enough without her demanding Finn's presence. There were so many other things wrong with it: she called Rachel by her name, she said please, and Quinn was in the hospital? He knew they went to dress fittings that day, so it didn't make sense to him. Maybe Mercedes and Santana were playing a joke on him.

He also didn't understand why Santana would text him. Why not just text Finn? It was specifically demanding his presence though too, so that might have been why. Surely Quinn wouldn't need him there, but Santana might.

Skeptically, he opened a new message.

**(4:48 PM):** Why is Quinn in the hospital?

Instantly his phone vibrated.

**(4:49 PM) Mercedes:** WHAT? Is that why no one showed back up at Rachel's? I'll be right there!

That was enough to make him snap out of his uncertainty and leap up from the couch. Kurt left his room and stormed down the hallway towards Finn's room where he could hear the telltale sound of gunfire and shouting.

Finn, in his boxer shorts and white t-shirt, was startled by his entrance and dropped the Xbox headset off his ears and stared. "What?"

"Get dressed. Quinn's in the hospital."

He dropped everything and scrambled to his feet. "Is she alright? What happened?"

"I don't know. Santana texted me and said Rachel was there, and we both need to go. Hurry up."

"Wait, Rachel? Why was Rachel there?"

Kurt's mouth open slightly and his brow furrowed. "They had dress fittings today for the wedding." It sounded like more of a question than a statement.

"Oh," Finn mumbled, "so that's why Rachel wouldn't come over after school."

God he hated Finn sometimes. "Yeah, I guess. Just, c'mon Finn. We have to go."

Closing the door, Kurt walked back to his room and picked up his phone.

First he sent to Mercedes:

**(5:04 PM):** Finn and I will be leaving shortly. I hope she's okay.

Then, deciding it was something important to tell his boyfriend, sent to Blaine:

**(5:04 PM):** Quinn is in the hospital. We don't know why yet, but Finn and I are headed there now. I know you're having dinner with your parents, so don't be ridiculous and cancel. Love you.

Lastly, he sent back to Santana, trying to be careful of his words:

**(5:05 PM):** We're on our way. I hope everything will be okay, Santana. Take care, see you soon.

* * *

><p>The waiting room was already crowded when they arrived fifteen minutes later. Mercedes talked with a poised blonde woman who Kurt could correctly identify as Quinn's mother. She was clenching his friend's hand and very obviously praying aloud. He knew they'd met when Quinn was in the hospital having Beth, Judy exchanging grateful words for Mercedes' family having taken her daughter in when Quinn's dad had kicked her out.<p>

Santana must have texted Puck because he and Sam were sitting with the rest of them, talking in hushed voices and both of their legs bouncing nervously. Kurt caught Sam's eye and smiled wistfully. Puck offered him a halfhearted wave with two of his fingers and he nodded his acknowledgment.

In the corner two seats away, Rachel sat hunched over with her head in her hands, looking forward and nowhere at all at the same time. Finn left his side abruptly when he noticed her and knelt on the ground, trying to garner her attention. Kurt didn't have time to see how that worked because he was immediately drawn to the seats on the opposite set of chairs, nearest to the double doors that he guessed led to the emergency room.

Santana, her hair pulled back and out of her face, was holding Brittany across the wooden bar separating their seats. Brittany cried deep into the sweatshirt she was wearing, trembling uncontrollably. When Santana saw Kurt, she ushered him over with a look and he immediately moved towards them.

He could hear Santana whispering to her and felt like he was interrupting something personal, but continued given her begging eyes.

"Kurt." He could tell Santana was saying his name more for Brittany's benefit than her own because of the distant look in her eyes.

Brittany removed herself from Santana long enough to glance up and see him standing there. Kurt watched her force a smile onto her face that broke evenly into another sob, standing up and shifting into a hug. He held the back of her head and ran his fingers through her hair smoothly, trying his best to ease the tears she was pouring into his blazer.

"It's okay, honey. I'm sure she'll be fine." His eyes found Santana's over Brittany shoulder and he probed for information silently.

Santana twisted her neck till it cracked both ways and then looked back at him. "She swerved into another lane and a truck hit her head on. She didn't see the guy coming. He was okay, but she's, well," she motioned to the room around them. He was surprised to hear how evenly her voice came out given how hard Brittany was crying into his shoulder. Out of the two of them he figured Santana would be taking it harder; he always thought they were a lot closer than Quinn and Brittany.

"Kurt," she interrupted his train of thought, "would you mind looking after her for a minute? I'm gonna go see if I can find a friend of my dad's to see what's going on."

Kurt shook his head and held Brittany tighter to him. "No, it's fine, Santana. I've got her."

Santana nodded and stood up. She put a hand on Brittany's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll be right back, B."

Brittany nodded into Kurt's body and Santana took that as a sign that she could leave. Kurt watched her disappear behind the eerie double doors where he could see rows of beds and dividers set up. When the left door swung inward, he thought he saw Santana double back into the opposite direction, but thought nothing of it.

Kurt released his hold on Brittany and tried to pry their bodies apart so he could look at her. After a bit of resistance, he could finally look into her bloodshot eyes and asked, "Do you mind if we sit down?"

Brittany shook her head and extracted her arms from his body. They sat down next to each other and she leaned towards him, her head on his shoulder. Kurt reached down and took Brittany's hand, holding tight.

"Was it bad?"

Brittany nuzzled her head against her jacket and with her empty hand cleared away some of the wetness from her face. "I didn't see her. The cars were smashed though. Santana saw her, but not a lot. Rachel was the closest but she hasn't said anything since then."

"Has anyone said anything to you guys? Or to her mom?"

"One of the nurses came out when we first got here and told us she went immediately into surgery with Santana's dad. She just said they were going to do everything they could."

Kurt took in and released a deep breath. None of that sounded good, from what he had heard on Grey's Anatomy. Knowing the more they talked about it, the more it would make Brittany upset—and remembering Santana said to 'take care' of her—he decided to change the subject.

"Were the dresses pretty?"

"Um," she cleared her throat, "yeah I guess."

He formed a list in his head of questions and settled into distract Brittany. It was the best he could offer in the negative environment, so he decided to go with it full force. "Tell me about them."

xx

"_I love you."_

She could remember flashes of pink and red, then the backseat of her own car, but past that Rachel didn't know how she ended up in the waiting room. People piled in around her and she was vaguely aware of Brittany and Santana sitting across from her. She even recalled hearing the nurse talking in the background explaining whatever was going on.

But those were the words that she remembered the most. She remembered Quinn, standing below her to where they were almost at equal height, proclaiming her love for the first time. What had she even said back?

"Rachel?"

Oh, that's right. She loved Finn. That's what she said back.

"Rach, talk to me. She's gonna be okay." Finn was in front of her on his knees. His hands had found their way onto her legs and she felt a little repulsed. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her when Quinn was in the emergency room. It didn't feel fair for some reason. She shoved his hands off of her as calmly as she could.

"What's wrong," he asked, "are you hurt?"

For the first time in what felt like hours, she stretched her vocal chords. She wasn't used to how scratchy it felt when she tried to speak.

"We're so stupid," she murmured.

"Who's stupid?"

"Us." She looked at him for the first time. "We were going to get married, Finn. _Married._" She kept mumbling things under her breath.

"Going to?" He sounded hurt and even more confused than before.

"Idiots," she grumbled. "I used to laugh at girls who drew their boyfriend's names on stuff. Now look at me. I'm engaged." Rachel lifted her hand above her face and looked at the ring. "_Engaged_."

Finn tried to put his hands on her legs again and she shoved them away. "You're upset. We can talk about this when you aren't so crazy."

"Crazy," she shouted, attracting the attention of almost everyone in the room. "Quinn is in the hospital and you're here telling me I'm crazy?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," he tried, consciously looking at his friends around them. Kurt and Brittany had their full attention being only a foot or two away. "You're just not yourself right now."

"Good," she shouted again, "maybe I don't want to be myself anymore."

"I don't know what you mean," he said back, still trying to calm her down.

"I mean everyone was right, Finn. We were making a mistake."

"So, you don't want to marry me anymore."

Rachel didn't even think about it. "No, it's not right. Nothing is right." She picked her body up and he fumbled backwards as she invaded his space. "I can't do this right now." Bolting upright from her seat, Rachel stormed from the room. She avoided the emergency room in her path and went around a corner that led to a long hallway.

What did she just do? Did she just break up with Finn? She made it sound like she only didn't want to _marry _him, but did she want to end it? And then there's Quinn. Quinn who poured her heart out only to be rejected and smashed onto the side of the highway.

With that thought, Rachel crashed into the wall and battled to keep herself vertical against the searing pain in her chest. It was her fault. If she had admitted to Quinn that deep down she really knew there wasn't a future with Finn, and she was only holding onto him as a stubborn way to prove something, they could have walked out of that shop together. They could have driven home, dispelling all of the awkward tension with each other and made up. Their relationship could have blossomed, once again, if she hadn't ignored the fraction of her heart that said to leap down from that mirror and kiss her.

Why didn't she kiss her?

As a nurse came around the corner, Rachel stiffened herself enough to keep walking down the hallway, tears still dripping from the corners of her eyes. She knew even if she wanted to stop them she couldn't. Quinn was somewhere in that hospital almost dead because Rachel couldn't admit that she might have been wrong about her feelings.

A sign above her head designated where somewhere around the corner was a chapel and she couldn't help but be drawn towards it. Granted, she was Jewish, but for some reason, given the circumstances, she felt being closer to God felt like being closer to Quinn. The girl had always effused how prayer was her way of feeling comfortable with the world. And when Rachel only wanted comfort, it seemed logical enough.

She found the tiny room easy enough and was grateful to see it empty. As cliché and cheesy as it felt to walk down the central aisle and feel a sense of serenity wash through her, it didn't make it any less true. Temple had a calming effect on her, when she actually got around to going anymore, so the calming atmosphere of the chapel had a similar result. The only thing that confused her was a low thrumming sound that she chalked up to the surrounding hospital noises. Nearing the front of the room, it got a little louder, and a little more organic.

Rachel glanced around the room, convinced she wasn't alone. Off to the side, behind a heavy curtain she could see a dark bench sticking out. The noise seemed to be coming from there and she cautiously approached it, curious of what was making the sounds that had transformed into a gasping rush of air. Her feet landed in front of the curtain and without further hesitance, she passed through them.

A line of candles provided enough light to reveal the person holding their head in two hands, sobbing into their lap. Her tiny body shook with erratic breaths sucking in air and Rachel felt her heart fall in her chest.

"Santana?"

Xx

She knew texting Kurt would tip him off that something was wrong with her. With Quinn in the hospital, he wasn't really the first person that needed to know, but she needed him to. As much as she knew holding Brittany in the waiting room was helping her girlfriend, she needed out. She needed to be alone and as the crowd moved in, she prayed he would get there and relieve her of duty.

The lie of going to see her father's friend worked like a charm and she was relieved no one asked for a name because she didn't have one. How could she tell Kurt that she needed to be away from Brittany? Or to tell Brittany that? She knew she'd be in good hands anyway.

On the opposite side of the emergency room doors, she navigated away from the commotion. The idea of Quinn being somewhere behind the walls, bleeding, broken, and unconscious disturbed her to the point that she needed to get as far away as possible. Her memory returned to the last time Quinn was in the hospital and somehow that only made her feel worse; all these horrible things kept happening to Quinn and there was nothing she could do for her.

She found her way into a hallway across the hospital and turned up on a room marked '_Chapel.' _She glanced around and making sure no one she knew had followed her, went inside. The air in the room was stale to taste with indulgent breaths and Santana felt a little more suffocated. She didn't know if there counted, but she hadn't been in any other type church for years. At the time, she fought with herself about the futility of a God who actually loved her. She'd never lived life with pertinent values, and had even criticized Quinn for believing dutifully, so the idea was lost on her. She wished she didn't feel so helpless.

Her knees hit the ruby carpet in front of the platform of candles in the middle of the altar and she cried for the first time all day. Her eyes were coated in a film of blinding wetness and she covered her face with both hands, elbows into her thighs. It was nauseatingly good to feel the tears.

At the same time, she found herself praying. Not to a god of her own, but to Quinn's god. If they could look past the pray-er, maybe it would do some good for her best friend.

Why did she have to be the strong one? When had that ever become a thing? The second she saw Quinn's car her instinct was to shut her eyes and cower in fear of the reality. Instead, she had to chase Rachel down and comfort Brittany. That wasn't fair. Quinn was _her_ best friend. She wanted the same chance to break that everyone else was afforded. It was happening whether they saw it or not.

Crappy things happened to them; like being outed or the love of their life marrying someone else. But not something that would _really_ change things. She hated feelings so useless to the situation. Sure, she trusted her dad but that didn't put everything in his hands. Something could go _really_ wrong and she'd never see Quinn again. She'd never be able to tease her about all the Yale drama nerds or about how she was a wuss who wouldn't sleep with Berry. She wouldn't ever be able to hug her again.

Santana sobbed into her legs and couldn't force herself to stop like she had for hours before. The dam had broken and she was at her body's mercy, paying for the hours of solitude she'd forced. She felt horrible and relieved bundled into one confusing emotion.

Over the sound of her own tears, Santana heard a stunningly familiar cry coming from the door to the chapel. She turned around and saw Rachel blindly walking past the room so she immediately scrambled up and moved behind a curtain that was off to the side of the room. She stumbled over a thick, wooden pew in time with Rachel's entrance and landed in the seat, crooning in pain. The corner of the bench slammed into her stomach when she had moved there and she sat humming in a vibrant stretch of audible soreness from the impact.

She hunched over and tried to keep her noises quiet so Rachel wouldn't find her but then felt immediately guilty of that. Rachel had to be hurting almost, if not more than she was and there Santana was trying to ignore her. Those thoughts were making her cry again and she sucked a large gust of air into her lungs that she knew without a doubt Rachel would hear. Giving up on any sense of secrecy she let herself fall back into tears, allowing her face to fall into her hands again.

"Santana?" Rachel's voice was only a foot away and she looked up see brown eyes smeared with tears and redness, and her hair still very particular like it had been at the Bridal Shop. "What are you doing?"

Santana shook her head back and forth, hurt by the insolent question. "What does it look like I'm doing," she cracked out.

Rachel came over and sat next to her on the bench, not giving any space between their bodies. She put both of her arms around Santana and pulled her into her chest, holding her like she had never done before; not in a way Santana would have ever let her. Santana curled into her side and put both arms around Rachel's side, digging her fingers into the material of her sweatshirt, needing something to hold on to.

Santana hiccuped into Rachel's collarbone, slamming her eyes shut and willing her to provide the same comfort that she'd been giving to everyone else over the last hour. Rachel's hand massaged her back and she could feel tears dripping onto her head, so she knew she was crying too. They were comforting each other as best they could, knowing none of it really mattered.

"I can't lose her," Santana whispered, digging her fingers in tighter.

"We won't," Rachel said assuredly, her voice sounding surprisingly strong. Although she hadn't heard it since the screaming earlier so there wasn't anything to really expect.

"I can't be there for Brittany, or you, or Kurt, or Judy. You all want answers and need someone to be the calm one, but I can't do that when I'm already so scared. I'm so scared, Rachel. You saw her too, you know how bad this is."

"I know, Santana," Rachel said, obviously trying to coax her with the words. "But I need to believe she's going to be okay. And we can all be here for each other."

"Brittany needs me and I can't be there for her when I'm like this," she said guiltily.

"So Kurt will be there for her. And Puck and Sam. No one will let her break and the same goes for you."

"Why are you talking now?" She was confused by the sudden change in demeanor Rachel was exuding, providing the ease when she had been stoic at the crash site.

"I decided it wasn't fair I felt so upset."

Santana slowly tugged out of her arms, letting herself scoot back against the arm of the bench. "Why?"

"I shouldn't be allowed to feel so horrible when this is my fault."

"Rachel—"

"No," she affirmed. "This is my fault. If I hadn't of let her leave she wouldn't be _here. _Going to that store was my idea and she didn't even want to be there, but came for me and now she's in the hospital because I'm so stupid." Santana could tell she was working herself back up the more she talked.

"You _are_ stupid if you think that this is in any way your fault. This was an accident."

Rachel shook her head and peered down into her lap. "Think what you want, it doesn't change the reality."

"Rachel," Santana snapped, gaining her attention. "You know Quinn wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"That is exactly what you say to someone when it _is_ actually their fault."

"You're being ridiculous." Santana wiped away some of the tears on her own face and then ran fingers roughly through her hair. "But I can tell this conversation is going to be pointless, so I'll just say thanks."

"Thanks?" Rachel looked at her dumbfounded.

"Your stupidity has calmed me down enough to stop crying."

"So you feel better?"

Santana turned away. "No, but how could I?"

There was an eerie silence and they could almost hear the beeping outside of the walls. Rachel stood up and walked over to the closest wall and tapped on the bricks. She started inspecting them and the ground at her feet where the carpet met the wall.

"I think these walls are soundproofed."

"Who knows," Santana said irritably.

Rachel turned to her and crossed her arms over her tiny chest. Santana could see how drained her eyes appeared and the sallow blue of bags beneath them. Her features were ghostly and despondent, tired beyond limits she hadn't thought possible for only a few hours.

"I'm going to end things with Finn."

Santana tried to judge the validity of the statement and was surprised to see she believed her. "It's about time."

"I love her, Santana."

Santana shook her head. "It's astounding to me how many times I've heard that, but how many times she hasn't."

"That's not fair," Rachel defended.

"Is anything," Santana said mockingly.

"You don't know how hard this has been for—"

"For you? Did you even think about how hard this is for her?"

"She didn't make it easy on me either!"

Santana stood up and they were toe-to-toe. "Don't you dare blame her. All she's ever done is loved you."

"And hurt me! What would you even know about i?"

"How about everything? I had to pick up the pieces when you left her last May and she went all crazy. "

Rachel shouted back, "That wasn't even _about_ me. That was about Shelby."

"It's amazing that you still can't see that everything has always been about you with her. Beth was about you for Christ's sake."

"I-I don't—"

"Yeah of course you don't know that. Once you came around and Finn started spurning her for you, she went to Puck. A couple wine coolers worked really well to help her forget about how _he _had a better chance with you than she did." Santana knew she'd crossed a line but couldn't help it. Rachel didn't get to stand there and criticize Quinn; not after everything.

"That can't possibly be true."

"Coming from the person who thinks Quinn getting into a car accident is her fault, I'm sure you can stretch the lengths of your imagination."

Rachel stepped back and glanced at the wall, shaking her head.

"Why are you even telling me this?"

"Because if you think anything she's ever done has been hard for you, imagine how hard every move you make has been on her. I've watched her self-destruct because of you on more than one occasion. And, because Quinn deserves someone that's going to love her despite everything, not blames her when things get hard. I thought that person was you."

"You don't understand what I meant. I love her because I know that after it all is said and done, I can't ever stop doing it. And I don't want to. It's been hard on _me_ because I want to be with her so much but I'm afraid of what that'll do to us. It worked out awfully the first time, but _despite everything_, I can't stop loving her." Rachel took a shaky breath and Santana regarded her with more sympathy. "But none of that matters to me anymore because I could lose her for good. _We_ could lose her for good and there's nothing to do. I've never felt this, this…"

"Helpless," Santana filled in knowingly. Of course she'd be relating to _Rachel_ right now.

Rachel nodded emphatically. They were both crying again and Santana pulled her into a hug of her own, cradling the girl who felt no tinier than herself. Rachel sobbed against her chest and she rubbed her back with both hands.

"I thought you said I didn't have to be there for anyone else anymore?"

Rachel let out one hard laugh. "Yeah, well I lied."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until ten that another nurse came out to the waiting room. Santana and Judy were the first ones up to receive her and stood diligently waiting for whatever she had to say. Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany, and Rachel abandoned their game of go fish to watch the scene without actually getting up and Sam, Puck, and Finn were gone getting coffee for everyone. Maria had shown up an hour earlier with Anna and Tony who were still in the chairs where Judy had been sitting. They were all trying to console their old friend since Russell hadn't been contacted.<p>

_Janeen,_ Santana read from her nametag, came up to them wearily and she prepared for the worst. "Mrs. Fabray?" Judy nodded and then the nurse turned towards Santana. "And?"

"She's fine," Judy said, letting her know Santana could hear whatever was about to be said.

"Okay, well, Quinn was in pretty bad shape when the paramedics got to her. She wasn't breathing and they had to force respiration in the ambulance." Janeen looked over the chart she held and flipped to the bottom page. "She lost a lot of blood but we were able to successfully give her a transfusion on arrival. There were also complications in surgery: two of the ribs on the left side of her body were broken and punctured the spleen causing it to rupture. However, Dr. Lopez was able to remove it without any further problems." Santana could feel her stomach dropping inch by inch as she talked, nausea invading her senses. "Overall she has two broken femurs and her right shoulder was dislocated in the crash. They're moving her into critical care now for her recovery but don't be alarmed. The doctors are positive her vital signs are conducive to her making a full recovery."

A collective sigh echoed around them and Santana couldn't help but join in. "When can we see her?"

The nurse looked at her skeptically. "You'll have to understand that even though she's okay, she's still in very serious condition. It'll be a waiting game for the next few hours, but I assure you Mrs. Fabray will be allowed visitation in the near future. Your involvement is solely her call."

Judy turned to her with a forced smile, not unfamiliar for her features, and said, "We'll see, Santana. If you're still here when the time comes, I'll consider it."

"I won't be going anywhere," Santana said simply. She turned back to Janeen, and asked, "Can I at least talk to my dad then? He was her surgeon."

The nurse nodded and motioned for her to follow. She led her back through _those_ doors and around the opposite corner she'd gone before into a staff lounge. The room was pale yellow and frigidly cold upon entrance. She wished she had the sweatshirt she'd lent to Brittany as a blanket as Janeen led her back to a corner where she saw her father sitting with a steaming styrofoam cup of coffee.

When he saw her, his eyes lit up and he slid out from the chair to walk forward and grab her. His hug lifted her off the ground the slightest bit and she leaned into his musk, grateful for the enclosure she'd only desired on rare occasions. She leaned her forehead against his thick shoulder and tightened the hold she had around his neck. Victor squeezed her in response, kissing the top of her head gently.

"Hey kid," he said in a tired rumble.

"Hi," she answered, muffled into his scrubs.

Santana pulled away and collected herself looking at him. He had the same scruffy beard he did the night before and his hair was ruffled from the way he always ran his fingers through it. She stretched onto her toes and straightened it out for him he smiled, motioning for her to sit down.

Once they were seated she steeled herself enough to ask the question she wanted to since seeing him. "How was she, honestly? Don't give me doctor bullshit speak."

"You're not supposed to work on people you have personal relationships with, did you know that?"

"No, but none of us would have trusted anyone else. Also, that sounds like doctor crap."

He sighed and dropped his hands to the cup of coffee. "At first it wasn't good at all. We were all pretty sure she wasn't going to make it." Santana cringed and he offered her his hand. She took it. "But that kid has always been so friggin tough, I was the only one not surprised when she didn't quit on us."

That made Santana smile involuntarily. Quinn had been through so much, a car wreck must have felt like nothing. "What do you think long term?"

"It's gonna be rough. And when she wakes up," he whistled, "it's a good thing those drugs are strong because she's gonna be in a world of pain."

"Maybe you could get me some of them." She winked at him and he laughed.

"Who's all out there?" He twitched his head towards the direction of the waiting room and then took a sip of coffee.

Santana leaned back in her chair. "Judy, Mom, Brittany's parents, and a couple of glee kids."

"Is Brittany alright?"

Santana shrugged. "Everyone's doing a lot better now that we have a clearer idea of what's going on."

He studied her for a second and then leaned forward, offering her the coffee. "She's going to be okay, kid."

Santana felt her lip quiver and then took a deep breath, grabbing the coffee from him. She took a scalding burn to her throat and handed it back. "I hope so."

"I'm amazed at how well you've handled this. I'm really proud of the initiative you took in that situation. A lot of people would have frozen where you were."

She smiled and dropped her gaze to the table. "Don't be so fooled."

He stared at her quietly until she looked back up at him. She could detect the tiniest trace of a joke in his expression. "I'm not." She tilted her head towards him. "I'm a surgeon, Santana. Every day I'm terrified by what happens around me. It's how you handle it that makes the difference."

"Maybe I should be a doctor then," she teased. When he smiled, she joked, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Victor nodded. "As much as I'd love for you to follow in old man's footsteps," she snickered, "I won't wish for that talented voice of yours to be silenced."

She'd never felt more happy in a conversation with her father. As happy as she was to know he accepted her, it didn't compare to knowing he was proud of her.

"Thank you."

He shrugged. "For what?"

"Everything," she answered. "For that, for Quinn. For Brittany."

His hand covered hers again and she marveled at how warm it felt. "You never need to thank me for anything." He was quiet for a moment and then his face shifted into a smirk very similar to her own. "The house you buy me when you're a billionaire will be thanks enough."

She laughed for the first time and shook her head. "It's first on the list."

"That only seems fair."

He smiled at her and she smiled back, confident that maybe things would actually be alright.

* * *

><p>Brittany's heart was pounding when Santana came back and she only felt worse considering the smile on her face. She watched her go over and talk to her mom and they exchanged a grand hug before she made her way back to their friends. Brittany caught her eye and tried to smile, knowing she hadn't been a very good girlfriend all day. Since Kurt showed up, she figured that's why Santana had been so quick to run away. She knew after everything, she needed to try harder.<p>

So when Santana came to a halt in front of her, lighter than she'd seen her all day, she peered up with determination.

Santana must have been able to sense something and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," Brittany said sincerely.

"Okay." When Santana went to sit down, Brittany caught her wrist and stood up to stop her.

She glanced at Rachel for a second and then turned back. Santana's eyes had followed hers so she felt a little more on edge. "Not here." She kept her hold on Santana's dainty wrist and pulled her along, out of the waiting room and into a hallway. She saw a row of benches and led them there, sitting down along one.

Santana joined her awkwardly and acted almost like she wanted to laugh at the situation. Brittany really hoped she wouldn't.

"What's going on?"

Brittany took a deep breath. She'd been thinking about it since they got out of the car at the hospital. Quinn's fate hadn't been determined and she couldn't stop thinking about how worse the conversation would be if something bad happened to her. She needed to tell Santana in case that was the outcome, knowing even if she was okay, she still would have said something. Her thoughts were jumbled but everything came down to one thing: she needed to tell her about what happened.

What _almost_ happened.

"I need to tell you something. And I need you to just let me say it because you know how confused I get and I have been working on what exactly to say all day and if you interrupt me I'll screw up. Even thought I know you are going to want to say something, can you please just do me a favor and not?"

Santana seemed to brace herself against the plastic bench and sighed. "Okay."

"Last Thursday, Quinn and I were together at her house, remember. And we we're drinking."

"Yeah, I remember," Santana started to say in a teasing voice but Brittany cut her off.

"Santana, you promised."

"Sorry," she said, nodding for her continue. Brittany hated how calm she was, even though she knew it was because Santana was entirely unsuspecting.

"We were really, _really_ drunk. And we were going to bed, and you texted me. Everything got so fuzzy and I know I was really upset about you and she was really upset about Rachel." Santana's forehead creased and Brittany thought that for the first time, she knew where she was going. "We were just trying to make each other feel better and I remember thinking how I really wished she was you. And she leaned into me and I almost kissed her." She stopped to see how Santana was taking it and when her face remained the same after a long second, she added, "but she stopped it before it happened. It's just been driving me insane not telling you and I'm so sorry it even happened. But nothing really happened and I'm just so sorry." She could feel the words getting misplaced and she knew it had everything to do with the silent treatment she hadn't been expecting at all.

"Say something," Brittany said quietly.

Something seemed to switch inside Santana that Brittany could visibly see and she turned away from the conversation, twisting and playing with her own fingers.

"So you almost kissed Quinn, or," she seemed to think about it, "or she almost kissed you. I don't understand."

"I think we were both leaning, but she stopped it," Brittany elaborated, wishing she could remember more about it. But if she could remember more, then it probably wouldn't have happened in the first place.

Santana's eyes clenched shut and she continued to mess around with her hands. After a long silence she let out a sharp breath. "What happened the first time Quinn kissed you?"

"She didn't kiss me—"

"No," Santana snapped. "I mean the _first_ time. The one you told me about on the cruise."

Brittany tried to recall the memory; she felt she owed her at least that.

_Quinn called Brittany the day after their Cheerio's sleepover and invited her over to hang out. She was surprised because Quinn hadn't ever wanted to hang out with just her and had even asked if Santana were invited. A hour later she showed up at the Fabray house, dawning her uniform for the first full day since receiving it and made her way towards Quinn's bedroom. _

_When she went inside, Quinn was sitting on her bed flipping through a yearbook from middle school. Quinn glanced up and greeted her with a full smile, also in her uniform except her hair which was down around her shoulders._

"_Hey," Brittany greeted back, jumping onto the bed. "Whatcha doing?" She peered into the book and saw Quinn flip out of the 'B' section, even though she could remember any of their friends having that last name. _

"_Looking at pictures of us when we were little. Look at how dumb we look." She flipped the book around and showed a picture of her, Santana and Quinn making faces at the camera._

"_That was only two years ago."_

_Quinn flipped the page with another far off look that puzzled Brittany. "It feels like forever. Like we were different people."_

_Brittany sat up and looked seriously at Quinn. "I don't think you're any different."_

"_You'd be surprised," Quinn had mumbled. _

"_What's so different?"_

_Quinn bit her lip and flipped through a few more pages of the book. "I wanted to talk to you about something."_

"_Well, I'm here, silly, so tell me."_

_Quinn breezed through the rest of the yearbook and then abandoned it onto her floor with a loud plop. "You can't tell anyone."_

_Brittany crossed an X over her chest and smiled. "Promise."_

_Quinn breathed out a long breath. "I feel like I don't like Finn anymore."_

_Brittany was confused. "So break up with him. Why is that a secret?"_

"_It isn't."_

"_Okay."_

"_I think I might like…girls."_

"_I like girls," Brittany said confidently. "I'm friends with tons of them."_

"_No," Quinn laughed humorlessly. "I think I __**like **__girls. How I used to like Finn."_

_Brittany put together what she meant pretty easily with that last piece of information. "Oh, so you think you're gay."_

"_No," Quinn shouted, looking around the room like she was afraid someone else might've heard them. "I mean, I don't know, maybe."_

_She could tell how uncomfortable and confused Quinn was. It was the same way Santana acted occasionally around her, so it wasn't hard to distinguish. _

"_Have you ever kissed a girl?"_

_Quinn shook her head dramatically, checking the door again. Brittany looked back and then made the decision to get up, cross over, and shut it. When she turned around, Quinn was wildly looking around, trying to keep her gaze somewhere else._

"_What are you doing," she asked in a rushed whisper. _

_Brittany climbed back onto the bed and smiled. "You can kiss me and find out if you like it. I'm a really good kisser."_

"_How would you know that?"_

"_Mike tells me all the time," she said informatively. "C'mon, I won't get freaked out or anything. Just do it."_

_She could tell how hesitant Quinn was and scooted so she was in front of her. She figured if she was confident, Quinn would feel confident enough to do it._

"_Are you sure?"_

_Brittany nodded and leaned forward. She watched all of the hesitancy pass through Quinn's flitting eyes and raised her eyebrows to signify that she was waiting. Quinn let in and out a breath that Brittany could taste on her lips from how close they were becoming as her friend leaned forward and kissed her._

_She remembered it being awkward at first until Quinn put a hand on her neck, gaining some leverage to maneuver Brittany the way she wanted. Brittany kissed back eagerly, solely out of the purpose to help her friend for as long as she needed it. _

"So you knew Quinn was gay before the rest of us," Santana complained, clearly angry about every detail of the story. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"She told me not to," Brittany replied earnestly. "She didn't want anyone to know."

"You kissed her before we kissed."

"No I didn't. We kissed a long time before that."

"No," Santana shouted. "You knew what it meant when you were kissing her. We just did it without thinking."

Brittany tried to grab her hand but Santana dodged her. "It wasn't like that. I didn't like her when it happened. She was upset and I was trying to help."

"Just like you were trying to help before Valentine's Day." Santana's head started shaking. "That's why you guys were acting so weird on Friday. I knew something was up, but I thought it was whatever craps been going on between us."

"Nothing happened," Brittany pleaded. Why couldn't Santana see it was a fluke, an accident, a nonevent.

"No, you were just upset and tried to kiss someone else."

"We were drunk!"

Santana stood up and wheeled on her. "And when I'm drunk I've never told more clear truths. So what does that say about you?"

"But nothing happened," Brittany cried. "_Nothing._"

"You know, why are you even telling me? You should have just kept it a secret if it wasn't such a big deal."

"I told you because you we don't lie to each other. Not anymore."

"I wish you would have." Santana crossed her arms and turned away.

"You don't mean that," Brittany said quietly. "I'm sorry, but you—"

Santana whirled around. "No, you don't get it. Quinn's in the hospital and I should be worried about her right now. But now when I see her, I'm not going to feel relieved. I'm gonna be angry because you told me she tried to kiss you, or you tried to kiss her or whatever the fuck happened."

"I'm sorry." Brittany stood up and tried a step towards Santana. Santana backed away and she stifled a tear. "I just wanted to be honest with you. What if she wouldn't have been okay? Would you have rather me told you then?"

"No, because this conversation shouldn't have even had reason to begin." She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head.

"Santana?"

They both turned and saw Rachel standing with one foot in the hallway from the waiting room, looking at them with a bewildered expression.

"The nurse came back. Quinn's mom is about to go see her and she said you could come."

Brittany felt the tension between them thicken and turned away. She heard Santana walk away without saying anything and had to turn back to watch.

"Santana," she said loud enough for only her to hear.

She turned around as she walked and raised an eyebrow.

"I love you."

Santana stared at her for a second and then turned around back towards Rachel. They went back in the room and Brittany felt the color drain from her face. She didn't know how that was supposed to go, but the way it had, definitely wasn't it.

* * *

><p>Santana didn't know how she ever thought she could have felt <em>relieved<em> seeing Quinn. Her first impression seeing the cut across her eyebrow and the bruised swell of her cheek wasn't relief at all; it actually felt more like anxiety. She didn't even feel an ounce of anger as she expected after her enlightening conversation with Brittany, but felt remorseful and guiltily that somehow she had ever considered that as a possibility.

Quinn was in a spotted green hospital gown, her arm in a navy sling, and hair nestled on her shoulders. The pin that had been in her hair was long since extracted and her bangs hung tucked off to the side behind one ear. Santana didn't know how to feel angry when all she could produce was concern.

Even if she knew Quinn would be okay, she looked horrific. Santana immediately discounted how movies portrayed cuts and bruises because the graphic image in front of her was so haunting, she knew none of it would ever bother her again. She'd seen the blood before so that could be added to the list as well.

Judy Fabray let out a whimper upon seeing her daughter and Santana couldn't blame her; she was terrified too. Judy went to the left side of the bed and Santana went to the other, approaching as cautiously as she possibly could. Loud noises felt atrocious and she wanted to quiet the rest of the hospital so Quinn could sleep in peace. It was a strange feeling.

Judy hovered over the bed and brushed a few of stray hairs from Quinn's face, eyes wetting with renewed tears. She seemed unaware that the nurse was still behind them, or of Santana who was still in her peripheral vision. She wanted to touch her arm or speak as a sign of comfort, but felt as if she'd be invading some sort of moment Quinn's mom was having. Santana didn't have to worry much longer because Janeen did it for her.

"A nurse'll come in every hour an' check on her. She's in good hands here, Mrs. Fabray. As I said before, this is a limited visit, so you'll have to adjourn to the waiting room. I actually recommend the two of you go home, get some sleep. We should know more tomorrow."

Judy kissed Quinn's forehead in the slightest pressure and smiled. She looked up at Santana. "We should go home."

Santana tried to smile back but fell short. "With all due respect, Mrs. F, I'm staying here tonight. I know I can't be in the room, but I'll wait. I won't leave her alone if she could wake up."

Judy stood erect and nodded to her with a small smile. "You're a good friend, Santana. You have my number," she looked back at the nurse as she spoke and then back to Santana, "you call me the second something changes."

Santana nodded cordially and turned back to Quinn. "I will."

"Would you mind giving her a moment?" It took Santana a second to realize that Judy was talking to the nurse and not her. She watched Janeen unsurely agree and usher Judy from the room.

"Just a minute, miss," Janeen told Santana.

She nodded and watched her shut the door. Turning back to Quinn in the hospital bed, Santana took in a sharp breath. She moved closer and found a tiny part where she could sit down and not be touching Quinn at all, so she took it, slipping her fingers beneath her friend's hand.

"You scared everybody, you idiot," Santana said softly. "Me, especially, Q." She looked around at all of the machinery and saw a few numbers rising and falling repetitively. "They keep saying you're okay and I really would like you to wake up so I can know for sure." Quinn's face twitched and she felt a little more hope about the situation. "I _really_ need you to wake up so I can punch you in the face for trying to kiss Brittany." She smirked at her own joke and knew no matter what, she couldn't ever harm Quinn physically again; not after seeing her that way. "Don't worry about it, you've got a couple weeks of recovery before I'd try anything."

"Don't let them in yet…"

Santana heard a tiny murmuring coming from Quinn's barely parted lips and she jolted from the bed, careful to not touch her again. "Quinn?"

"…don't let them in yet, S, we're not ready…"

It was so slight and barely there that she could imagine Quinn wasn't saying anything at all, but the way her eyes were rolling back and forth behind her eyelids and the shudder lips reassured her Quinn was mumbling. Not something she could understand, but definitely something.

"Santana." The nurse's voice startled her and her eyes snapped to see her standing there patiently. "Time to go."

She glanced back and forth between the nurse and Quinn, really not wanting to leave. She knew if she resisted they would either call her dad or get an orderly so she simply nodded. As a last effort, she leaned down and kissed Quinn's forehead the same way her mom did, careful to not press hard at all.

"I won't, Q. It'll be okay."

* * *

><p>With the news of Quinn's successful surgery, the waiting room numbers started to thin. Puck, Sam, Mercedes, and Kurt had left, all demanding Rachel give them updates as soon as there was news, leaving Rachel alone with Santana's mom and Finn. She'd seen Brittany come back from what looked to be a heated conversation with Santana and quickly departed with her parents. Rachel didn't know what was going on there but she didn't look happy and couldn't give it much thought beyond that.<p>

She was already too preoccupied with Finn, who hadn't left nor had he said a word to her since she came back with Santana from the chapel. Her decision hadn't changed but she couldn't think of the right way to bring it up in a hospital with one of her friend's parents around. And she felt leaving Mrs. Lopez alone seemed too callous given the circumstances, so they sat there in silence, awaiting Santana's return.

Mrs. Fabray came in through the double doors first, heading over to Mrs. Lopez and telling her that she was heading home for the night. They hugged and Rachel smiled as she graciously thanked her for the support and asked for her to tell Mr. Lopez how grateful she was he could be there for her _'Quinnie.'_

Rachel had to smirk knowing how much Quinn hated when her mom called her that and when she glanced up, Finn was staring at her bewildered at what could be making her smile. Her face fell back into a neutral expression and she looked away. The words had already formulated in her head, she just needed to find a place to say them.

Santana came around the corner next, going first to her mother and telling her that she was staying, hugging and kissing her in such a domestic way Rachel couldn't believe she was actually seeing it. She had always assumed Santana avoided her parents, so seeing them interact was like watching an animal in their natural habitat. She made a mental note to not vocalize that comparison to Santana.

"Where's Brittany," Santana asked after her mom left and she walked over.

Rachel glanced awkwardly around the room and answered, "She left with her mom a little while ago."

"Oh," Santana said, dropping into the seat on the opposite side of Rachel. She must have realized Finn was on the other side because she leaned forward and said, "Thanks for coming, Hudson."

Rachel saw him nod at her and she felt a tiny twinge of guilt because he _had_ showed up after all. Now that Santana was back, she stood up and grabbed Finn's hand.

"Santana, we're going to be right back. Will you be okay by yourself?"

Santana looked up at her and nodded, knowing what was about to happen. "Take your time."

As they started out of the room, Finn being dragged along obliviously, Rachel heard Santana yell something. "What," she said turning around.

"Get me a coffee."

Rachel shook her head. "Fine."

She walked Finn out into the hallway and they went far down towards the vending machines. He stepped uncomfortably beside her, and just when she thought he was going to take her hand, didn't.

"Thank you for coming today. It meant a lot to see you here."

"It didn't seem like that when I showed up," he said, not looking at her.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that."

They found a row of chairs across from the vending machines and she sat down, prompting him to follow her. He did and turned his body towards her.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about," he asked.

Rachel hesitated and shook her head. "I still mean what I said then, Finn. I don't want to get married."

He dropped his chin to his hand and frowned at her. "So, we won't get married then."

"No," she said. Rachel reached out and grabbed the hand holding up his head and held it between both of hers. "I don't think I can be with you anymore."

He sat back abruptly and stared at her. "What? Why?"

Rachel's tongue popped out of her mouth to wet her lips and she bit down on the bottom one. "It's not fair for you anymore to be with me. I think I've known for a while that we shouldn't be together, but I couldn't stop it. We were already so invested in each other."

"We're still invested in each other," he said stubbornly. "You're the only good thing in my life."

"That shouldn't _be_ true. We need to find ourselves outside of this relationship. It's not healthy to be so dependent on one another."

"But I love you."

"And I love you too, but we're different people now, Finn. I'm in love with who I thought you had the potential to become. That person and who you actually are are two very different people. And you want to love who you want me to be _for you._ I'm not her and you're not him."

"We can change to be those people."

She shook her head softly, squeezing his hand. "No we can't. And that's okay."

"Why are you realizing this now? What changed?"

Rachel motioned around the hospital. "This accident. It made me realize that we need to live in moments with people who love us for who we are, because those are the people that matter. And often those are the people taken from us."

"So this is about someone else?" He was nearly getting it and she figured a few more choice words would help him hit the nail on the head.

"You don't deserve to be lied to, so all I'll say is yes, it's about somebody else. But that's all I'm going to say."

"Who is he?"

"That doesn't matter. I just need you to understand that this isn't anyone's fault. We've outgrown each other." She looked back and forth between his eyes nervously, anticipating a freak out with shouting.

Finn studied her closely, furrowing his eyebrows together, and pulled his hand away. "I understand, Rachel. I care about you and I honestly just want you to be happy. If you can't be that way with me than I don't deserve you."

She smiled and leaned over to hug him. One of his hands came to rest on her back and he rubbed it back and forth soothingly. "I care about you too. I always will. Thank you for this."

"It sucks," he said over her shoulder, "but if someone else can make you happy, you should be with them." His lack of a pronoun wasn't lost on her and she pulled back to scan his face for a clue that he knew something. If he did, he wasn't showing it so she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"We can be friends right?"

"Of course," he said, smiling. "But you have to give me a few weeks to get used to it before we do that, okay?"

"Completely understandable." She squeezed his shoulder and looked down at her hand where his ring still sat. "Here," she said, sliding it off her finger, "give it to someone who loves you in a way I wasn't able to."

He smiled at it as she slipped it into his hand. "I don't think that'll happen any time soon, but I will."

"I know this is going to sound strange, but you seem to be taking this a lot easier than I expected."

Finn licked his lips. "I'm not, trust me. But after earlier I've been preparing myself for it."

She couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

"I could tell by the look in your eye that you weren't talking only about the wedding. I knew we'd end up here sooner or later."

"I'm sorry, Finn."

"I don't blame you. It's like you said, we're different people."

Finn actually understood her. She expected him to fight, plead, and beg for forgiveness. She never expected he could see her perspective and believe it so easily. She felt like maybe Finn had finally done some growing up.

Rachel smiled at him. "I better get Santana her coffee."

"You two being friends is confusing," he said, scratching his forehead. "She still scares me."

"She has a reason to be scary to you," Rachel teased. She stood up and went over to the coffee machine, putting in a few bills she pulled out from the pocket of her jeans and selecting a black coffee. She didn't know what else to get her and hoped it would suffice.

"I guess I'll never be able to apologize for that."

Rachel turned around as the cup started to fill and shrugged. "She's left you alone for a while."

"I'm afraid one day she's gonna run me over with her car or something," he joked. Rachel cringed and when he looked up, she saw that his face fall. "Sorry, that wasn't a good thing to joke about."

She picked up the cup and turned back towards him. "Not really." He stood up and shook out his hoodie, unraveling it from where it had been bunched and they started to walk down the hallway together. "Seriously, thank you for coming."

"I still care a lot about her," he said. "First girlfriend and all that junk. I was worried."

"She's strong."

Finn nodded as they neared the waiting room entrance. "Never doubted that for a minute."

"I hope to see you at school on Monday."

"I won't be anywhere else," he teased, leaning in towards her. She backed up and he staggered away. "Sorry, habits."

"It's fine. Goodbye, Finn." She squeezed his arm finally and walked back into the room. Out of all the possible outcomes she'd anticipated, that wasn't close to any of them. They either ended up arguing, crying, or-she'd even considered-still together. Nothing in her life to date had prepared her for the fact that Finn could be so okay with letting her go. But maybe he realized it when she spelled it out for him; they weren't meant to be together, not anymore.

Another family had gathered on the opposite side of the room and she politely ignored them on her way over to Santana.

Santana grinned up at her when she saw the coffee and greedily took it from her hands. "Thanks, munchkin."

Rachel sat down and leaned her head against the wall. "You know, I surprisingly don't find that insulting."

Santana took a long sip of coffee and smirked at her. "That's good because I'm not trying to insult you."

"So it's a term of endearment?"

Santana turned to her with a disgusted look. "God, no."

Rachel nodded a few times and chuckled. "I'm glad things between us don't change. Well besides the friendship part."

Santana hummed her agreement and drank a little more coffee.

Rachel couldn't say she wasn't jealous Santana got to see Quinn and she didn't. But then again the idea of having to see Quinn in post-collision condition kind of terrified her. She could remember clearly the image of Quinn on the stretcher, bloodied and arm twisted in a gangly way. The hospital wouldn't have left in her in_ that_ condition, but the cuts and bruises were enough to produce tears. She didn't know if she was willing to take the chance.

"She's okay, Rachel. Very banged up but alive." Santana smiled calmly at her, skirting her finger around the rim of the cup.

"Even if I wanted to see her, visiting hours are way over and they wouldn't even let _you_ stay in there."

Santana shrugged and glanced at the clock. "All I know is, the nurse said she'd be back in an hour and the doors stay open when she comes out." She turned back to Rachel. "And Quinn's in 1203."

"You're suggesting I sneak into her room?"

Santana nodded. "Yup."

"Why won't you go?"

"I think she'd benefit more from having you in the room if she wakes up. As long as the first words out of your mouth are, 'I broke up with Finn.'"

"She's going to hate me when she wakes up." The accident was her fault after all.

"Quit it negative Nancy. She will be happy to see you."

"You honestly think it's a good idea?" Rachel searched Santana's face for any uncertainty.

"I think it won't be a bad idea," Santana replied.

Rachel couldn't help but smirk in time with Santana's and agree. And at half past eleven, when the nurse came out to talk to the other family, Santana stood up into her line of vision and picked a magazine. There was no way to see Rachel darting for the open doors in search of Quinn.

Santana settled back in her seat and dropped the magazine to her lap, fishing in her pocket for her phone. She dialed her dad's number and waited.

"What's up kid?"

"If any of your nurses run into a short, yappy brunette in Quinn's room, let her be. Quinn would want her there."

"Rachel I assume?"

"Yep."

He laughed quietly and said, "I'll let them know."

xx

Rachel ducked around corners and hid behind a file she snatched from the nurses' station even though if someone had walked back, she was plainly visible. The room numbers went down as snuck along and the nearer she got, the more nervous she became. Although she was in simple pair of sneakers, her feet felt like lead weights dragging against the tile floor.

'1204' she read at last and took a deep breathing in preparation for what she would find behind the next door. Quinn wouldn't be conscious, she didn't think, so she was nervous of where to settle. She hoped there was a chair or something for her to sit in.

At '1203' Rachel glanced in the room, seeing Quinn for the first time in hours. She could see a tiny bit of the bruises and a poignant cut on her head but nothing that put her off going inside. If anything, seeing Quinn at last made her want to go in more. So she did.

Rachel crept into the room and closed the door gently behind her. She padded along the floor until she came at a rest on the right side of a bed where a chair had been pushed closer to Quinn. It didn't look like it fit the room so she assumed someone put it there, but then she remembered no one was supposed to be in there and was confused. Someone anticipated her presence?

Rachel sat down and scooted the chair closer so she was parallel to the bed, facing Quinn who was sleeping soundly next to her. Aside from the obvious casts around her legs, the sling on her shoulder, and the swollen cuts and bruises, Quinn looked positively peaceful. Rachel didn't expect her breaths to be so steady or her cheeks to be so pink, but like everyone had said: Quinn was strong and alive. Two words that were so simple had never meant so much.

"I don't know if you can hear me Quinn, but I've never been so happy to see you breathing. I guess that's weird to say but when have I ever been able to control the things that come from my mouth." Rachel took a much needed breath. "I'm very sorry I let this happen to you and I hope you wake up soon so I can tell you that. Also, I need to tell you something else, but that can wait until you're conscious."

Rachel edged her left hand beneath where Quinn's laid curled against the mattress and circled her fingers around them without putting any pressure on her. "I'll be here. I don't care if I have to fight off nurses and orderlies. I'll be here." She smiled and leaned down to kiss Quinn's fingers. She laid her head down next to their hands and rested for the first time all day.

xx

Rachel felt something drifting through her bangs and smiled as she woke up. The airy touch was pleasing on her worried head and she ignored the rest of her aching body, content to pretend she was still dreaming. When the touch became more persistent and a soft finger traced down her nose, she crinkled it in confusion. Who would be touching her at this hour?

The steady beeping around the room alerted her sense and she jolted upright in the chair, seeing Quinn propped up above her. Sunlight was filtering in through the blinds and blinded her as she moved about to make sure she wasn't still dreaming and that Quinn was actually awake. In her haze, she remembered that she had vocal chords and was wondering why she wasn't using them.

Hazel eyes locked onto hers as everything became clearer and she saw Quinn's unheeding smile. "How'd you sleep?"

Rachel cracked, letting tears fall relentlessly from her eyes as she scrambled to get closer to Quinn. "You're awake," she squealed, leaning in to brush the hair from one eye so she could see both of them clearly. She never wanted to see another pair of eyes ever again.

"Watch," Quinn said, subtly glancing down at where Rachel's hand was closing in on her arm close to another bandage. "Precious cargo here."

"How are you joking right now?"

"Because I woke up from the most wonderful dream and found you laying here waiting for me."

"I told you I would."

Quinn lifted her arm and cupped Rachel's face tenderly. "I know you did."

"How do you feel?"

Quinn surveyed her body, weakly tilting her head to examine every inch of her legs. "Is it too soon for you if I say, 'like I got hit by a truck?'?"

Rachel nodded sadly. "Very. Although, I won't hold it against you, considering."

"Considering?"

Rachel smirked. "You actually got hit by a truck."

A tiny smile appeared on Quinn's mouth and she stroked Rachel's face with her thumb. "I think I figured out what you wanted to tell me."

"What do you mean," Rachel asked, sitting back down in the chair. She knew she'd have to go get a doctor soon, and Santana really should know, but she couldn't help but want a few more minutes alone with Quinn.

"You told me," Quinn said and then shook her head. "Well, not actually you, but you said you needed to tell me something. And you would in the morning."

"I did say that to you actually," Rachel admitted. "Actually I said 'when you were conscious,' but I guess you heard what you heard."

"This is so confusing."

"I'm so sorry, Quinn. This is all my fault."

Quinn took in a frustrated breath like it wasn't the first time she'd heard that. "No, Rach. It's not your fault. It was my dumb fault for swerving into oncoming traffic. Don't blame yourself."

"How do you know what happened? I've seen a hundred doctor shows and the victim never remembers anything."

Quinn chuckled. "Well, this is real life first off, and you are such a heavy sleeper, a nurse came in and explained what happened to me already. Second—"

"That's impossible," Rachel denied. "I would have woken up."

Quinn gritted her teeth and suck in a breath playfully. "Sorry. It's the truth."

Rachel still didn't believe her but decided arguing with a hospitalized Quinn. "What's second?"

Quinn slid her fingers into the ones Rachel still had replaced on the bed. "Please don't refer to me as the victim. That sounds morbid."

"Check," Rachel said, extracting her fingers and standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"I feel like I should tell a doctor or at least Santana that you're up."

"Santana is still here?"

"I think she slept in the waiting room," Rachel guessed, not knowing what became of their friend after she left the night before.

"Nobody had to stay here," Quinn sighed, letting her head drift back against the pillow.

"We're your friends, Quinn. We wouldn't leave you stranded here."

"Friends," Quinn said. "That reminds me."

Rachel stepped closer to the bed.

Quinn reached up and grabbed her left hand from where it sat dangling by her hip and held it. "Where's your ring?"

Rachel looked down and consciously ran her pinkie over her ring finger where the engagement ring had been not twelve hours earlier. When she used to take it off to shower or wash dishes, her hand used to feel empty without it. But with Quinn's fingers bending into her own, nothing felt empty anymore.

"I gave it back."

"Yeah?" Quinn's smile was back brighter than before.

Rachel smiled at her. "Yeah."

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed what was utterly painful for me to write. I worked so hard to get this updated before I left for the weekend and I really hope you all think it's worth it.**

**There are explicit things to compare between Quinn's dream and this chapter, and I don't know if you care but I feel it's worth mentioning that this chapter came first. I was pretty proud of it actually. Thanks :)**

**Here I'll even answer reviews this time :  
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**thetamarine-I've been working so hard all week to finish this because I didn't want to leave anyone hanging. Thanks!  
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**Blueskkies-I feel like now it'll be the reverse, feel bad for Brittany/Santana, happy for Quinn/Rachel haha  
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**shiney1983-I hurried! Don't hate me even though I'm sure I've given reasons to hate me in these chapters too lol  
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**holdmetonight-Well thank you very much :)  
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**Genetic-There will be more of Brittany and Santana's family together because that was such a fun dynamic to write. That Faberry thing wasn't easy to write and I actually edited within five minutes after I published because I was worried how it came out. Thanks!  
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**Musicfutbolfan6-At least you didn't hate me because I wrote it, so whew!  
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**vero-Guilt was the driving factor for why she told Santana in this chapter. I established that in the last one as a kind of foresight to why she would _need_ to tell Santana in this one if that makes sense. Thanks for the review :)  
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**excuse me but wtf (I guess you didn't agree with the username conditions?)- I just want you to know that I started laughing so hard I was driven to tears reading this. You made me so happy with every further question and I am glad you liked everything that much. Screw the glee writers, this is quality shit I'm writing here ;)  
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**Breakdown6-You better fucking love me, I gave you two chapters a reward for your update! Holy shit I just realized we technically updated in the same day, well within twenty four hours! Go us! Aw, you saved mine for last that's so amazing. Thank you so much. I mean, Finchel's gone now, so I hope that pleases you enough for a resolve of tension :) But I'm eagerly anticipating your review and am expecting expletives about Brittana. Go easy on me, I'm fragile. Thanks ! :)  
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**Jackien1-Yeah, you don't know how much hatred I harbor towards the glee producers for not giving us that Faberry scene they showed in the promo for On My Way. I'm so upset that I tried to write an equivalent myself, and I hope you liked it too! Thanks :)  
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**HecksYea-I can't imagine where your feelings are at considering Britt/San now. I'm sorry to frustrate you lol but they have to get everything out to make it better right? :)  
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**Prattle01-I liked how all of you enjoyed that family dinner. I definitely will be including more of them, with a little more in depth conversation. There's a fun dynamic to their combined families I think. Hope I resolved the suspense nicely.  
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**Thanks for reading! :)  
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	52. you and me together

**A/N: What's up. Been a while. Nice to see you again. This is a chapter. With words. I hope you like them. **

**I BET NONE OF YOU REMEMBER WHAT YOU REVIEWED:  
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**thetamarine-I made you smile, score! Don't be worried about Brittana. Ever.  
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**prattle01-I know right, why is Finn such a grown up now? Everyone's worried about Brittana. Stop that.**

**Puff614-Happy you liked the dream. It was pretty fun to write. I wish you could adopt a penguin. I got all the Brittana you could possibly want.  
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**Musicfutballfan6-At least it's beautiful even if it screwed up your emotions. Sorry!  
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**krys10-You're welcome. Thank you, for reading it.  
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**Genetic-Faberry finally got a break! Woo. This story is getting long, I hope that's not annoying people.  
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**Breakdown6-I don't like you...just kidding.  
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**shiney1983-Oh...I hope you don't find this chapter too unrealistic then for Brittana. Thanks though. I have such better ideas for everyone when they're happy. I'm bored of writing sad stuff.  
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**fanficfreshman-Thanks. If it stays awesome, does that mean you'll keep reviewing?  
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**Guest-I'm glad you picked up on that. I did that on purpose with Santana and Rachel being in a _chapel_. Lots of people seemed to think that Brittana fighting had only started in that last chapter, but I've been building it up with the idea of making it boil over in the last chapter. Which it did. I'm not sure how many chapters, specifically, but it'll go through until they leave for college. Thanks.  
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**Hazelstar-I've always loved finding a story that I can stay up all night reading so you don't know how happy that makes me feel to know someone can do that with mine. Thanks for liking the Faberry scenes, I hope the Brittana treat you well also.  
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**MusicFlowsWithin-What if Quinn would have died and Rachel married Finn? That would have been messed up. No more secrets for Brittana; that's this chapter.  
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**HecksYea-Thanks! I loved writing the dream chapter. Gave me a chance to move outside this story for a second. I'm glad you liked it.  
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**StayGolden26-The family dinner was fun to write. I hope I get more opportunities to show off their relationship with their parents in future chapters. I want Santana's coming out to have strengthened her family rather than to have destroyed it. With Maria's history, they have a reason to connect. Victor is essentially someone who's too burned out with work to focus on his family and any chance I can get him together with Santana I want him to show how much he appreciates her. I loved that scene too. Thanks for reviewing.  
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********You people just keep showing up, so as always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!********

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><p>Thankfully, Santana had no problem falling asleep in uncomfortable positions. After a night propped between two chairs in the waiting room, a blanket she had requested from a nurse dropped around her waist, she was surprised to wake up and not have to stretch out too many kinked muscles. Considering the errant poking Rachel's finger was doing to her shoulder, she didn't need much more to be annoyed about.<p>

"Santana, wake up," Rachel whispered very near to her face.

When she opened her eyes, Santana saw how close Rachel's face actually was and jumped. She reached up and sleepily shoved her backwards.

"Get outta my face, Berry."

Rachel scoffed and shoved back. "Get up, _Lopez_, Quinn's awake."

'_Quinn's awake!'_ She stood up from her seat so fast it sent Rachel stumbling, her reaching out and grabbing an arm quick enough to save a fall. "How long has she been up?"

"She said since around four? The doctors apparently have already talked to her, your dads in there with her and her mom now."

"'She said?' She's already talking?" Santana couldn't help but admit she figured Quinn would be in some death-defying coma, not waking up for another week or two. Hearing her best friend said screw that and was already talking, was more than she could have asked for at that moment.

Rachel laughed. "Yeah, she actually said something to me first."

"I find that—"

"—hard to believe," Rachel finished. "Yes, I get it, I talk a lot."

Santana smirked at Rachel. "Just teasing, midget." She took a deep breath. "So can I go see her?"

Rachel shook her head to one side and stared at the wall like she was trying to remember. "In about an hour. They want to run some tests. I figured I could wait here with Judy if you want to go home and shower and stuff."

Santana ran a hand through her hair and grimaced at the feel of it. "Yeah, I guess."

"And you can get Brittany."

Santana cringed, for the first time that morning remembering how she and Brittany left things the day before. Actually, she didn't know, considering Brittany up and left without saying anything. Not a lot of her time at the hospital had been dedicated to figuring out whatever that conversation meant for the two of them, but knowing they'd have to talk about it sooner or later—and she really did want to apologize for getting so angry about it—she chose sooner.

"Why _did_ she leave yesterday? I wanted to say something but felt like it wasn't my place."

Santana shrugged, noncommittally. "Your guess is as good as mine. I'll pick her up on my way back."

"Well, I'll see you then. Please drive carefully." Rachel stepped forward and closed her arms around Santana's back in a hug.

Santana stood there with her arms propped up in the air awkwardly. "What is this?"

"A hug?"

"We don't hug," Santana replied, shifting under Rachel's pressure.

"We do now. Hug me back or I'll tell everyone you initiated a hug with _me_ yesterday."

Rolling her eyes, Santana hugged Rachel around the shoulders, squeezing their bodies together. She tried to ignore how comfortable she was, if only for the sake of her reputation. "I hate you."

"I hate you too." Rachel squeezed one more time and let go, stepping away with a wide smile on her face.

xx

The thud of a recent knock echoed between her body and the outside of Brittany's house. While she'd grown accustomed to knocking over the last few weeks, she was suddenly overwhelmed with anger that she'd been reduced to knocking on **Brittany's** door. Santana didn't knock to get into Brittany's house. Their houses were one in the same, open to each other at all hours of the day and night. Why was she standing on the opposite side of where she belonged, _asking_ for entry?

Without further thought, Santana twisted the handle and walked into the house. She came face to face with Anna, who had been coming to answer the door. Her gaze fell to the ground awkwardly.

"Hello, Santana." The tone of Anna's voice sounded partially uninviting and she had to look up to double check. She was smiling, a smile that didn't quite complete itself at the edges; it wasn't Brittany's smile for sure. The distance resonated in her features as well as in her voice.

"Hey," Santana answered. "Is Brittany here?"

Anna nodded and pointed towards the landing above their heads. "In her room."

"Busy?"

"Sleeping, maybe," Anna said uncertainly.

Santana nodded the same and tried to smile at her, wary of what seemed to be putting her on edge.

"How is Quinn this morning?"

Santana brightened a bit. "She woke up this morning. Judy and my dad were talking with her when I left."

"That's wonderful news," Anna answered with a relieved smile.

Nodding again, Santana glanced upward toward the bedrooms. "I'm going to go up and see her, okay?"

"That's fine. I'm glad you two were okay, Santana. Rachel, too."

"Thanks."

Departing finally, she walked up the stairs and went towards Brittany's room. The door was shut, she hoped not locked, and she knocked on it nervously. Invading the home was enough, bursting into her room felt like an overstep.

"Yeah?" Brittany's voice echoed through the room out into the hallway and Santana took that as an invitation to enter.

She fretfully pushed the door open and walked in, two large bundles of fur scurrying past her feet as she did so. Brittany's room was a mess: clothes and papers everywhere on the floor, a few towels soaking the blue carpet. Brittany herself was propped up in bed, laptop on her legs, staring hard at the screen. She had her hair swept up and out of her eyes, a simple grey t-shirt hanging off one shoulder. She probably hadn't of gotten out bed yet. Her gaze shot up when she saw Santana standing just inside the doorway.

"San."

"Hey."

Brittany sat the computer aside and leant up in the direction of the door, crossing her arms. "Is Quinn okay?"

Santana dropped her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek to not snap. "She woke up this morning. Berry was with her."

"That's awesome," Brittany answered, sitting back against the headboard. "How are you?"

Santana glanced back up and took in her appearance. Brittany looked tired, puffy, glazed-over eyes red and frantic. She didn't have to guess that she had been crying, most likely hadn't slept much the night before, completely the opposite of her.

Santana shrugged haphazardly. "Confused."

Brittany leaned forward again. "About what?"

"Us," Santana breathed honestly. Thinking about all of the unhinged emotions created a wave of exhaustion and distress deep in her chest.

"Will you come here," Brittany pleaded.

She didn't want to oblige but figured the more she resisted, the harder it would be. Santana walked across the room and sat at the bottom of Brittany's bed, barely perched on the edge. They weren't touching, entirely on purpose.

"That's not really close enough," Brittany muttered.

"I'm not ready to kiss or hug you yet, Brittany. If you love me you can respect that."

"I do, and I do," Brittany responded quickly, scooting her body forward to grab Santana's hand.

Santana reluctantly let it happen, happy to notice she felt comforted, not angered, by the gesture.

"Why did you leave," Santana asked. The easiest question first, since it was at the forefront of her mind anyway.

"Leave where? The hospital?"

"Yeah."

Brittany looked down at their hands. "You were so mad already. I thought if I stayed there it would make you madder."

"You could have stayed and tried to make things better."

Brittany eyed her skeptically. "How?"

Santana gripped the comforter with her free hand and clenched her eyes together. "_Talked_ to me. I was so scared last night and you just left me there."

"I thought you would have gone home. I didn't think you could stay overnight or anything like that."

Santana shook her head. "I don't care about that. We could have gone home together, like we _used_ to. Where was your head at last night? _Obviously_ not with me."

Brittany dropped Santana's hand and bundled her arms against her chest. "How could it have been, Santana? I was busy worrying about trying to think of a way to convince you I didn't like Quinn. I guess nobody else is allowed to make mistakes when they hurt _you; _that's just the end of it."

"That's not even why I was mad," Santana refuted, getting to her feet. "You wouldn't even know why I was mad because you left without even trying to figure it out."

"Then why? Tell me."

"Because you kept it from me, for a week. A week!" She was leaning forward aggressively. "Who does that to someone they care about? I probably would have laughed it off if you just told me what happened the day after. But, no, you can't trust me enough to even tell me something_ so_ stupid as Quinn almost kissing you? Surprise! You've kissed a lot of other girls before me, I never got mad about that."

Brittany hopped out of bed fast enough that Santana had to step back to keep her at a reasonable distance. "We weren't dating then. How am I supposed to tell you that happened and explain it without pissing you off? Throw it back in your face and say it was _your_ fault because you've been making me incredibly lonely over the last month? Last time we tried the total honesty thing, you wouldn't talk to me for weeks. And that was about how you felt about me. I was scared to let you think I had feelings for anybody else. Like you o_bviously_ do."

Santana felt scandalized. "I do _not._ You think I would believe you have feelings for Quinn? I've been watching you play matchmaker for Quinn and Rachel since we were in middle school, Britt. I trust how you feel about me a hundred percent. What I don't trust, is how you never seem to tell me everything right away."

"When has this ever happened before?"

Santana didn't even have to think back far for an excuse. "About Quinn."

"That doesn't even count," Brittany argued. "You knew she was even if I didn't tell you. Also that's cheating because I just told you that."

"Yeah, well you trusted Quinn enough to let her explore those feelings with you."

Brittany squinted and breathed for a second. "What does that even mean?"

"Where were you for me?" Santana knew they were getting off track but the momentum of the conversation kept pulling her back in for more.

Brittany opened her eyes fully and a wave of guilt washed through them. "Santana..."

"No," Santana bit back, "if you were so protective of Quinn and her feelings, tell me why mine were different. Why couldn't you come to me years ago and tell me how we _so _clearly felt about each other?"

Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes as she stared Brittany down, waiting for an answer.

"Because I loved _you._ I didn't want to push you into anything you weren't ready for. I thought you'd freak out and never talk to me again."

Santana's forehead scrunched together and a tear fell. "You **don't** trust me. That's all this boils down to. You never have and maybe you never will."

"That's not true." Brittany stepped forward and cupped the back of Santana's arms. "Stop doing this. I can tell when you're trying to push me away, and I'm not letting it happen."

Santana didn't shrug out of her arms, letting the ease of being with Brittany take her over. She wanted her to dispel all of the doubt, force it out with a simple touch of her fingers. Brittany had always been enough _before_ and she could be _then_.

"Why did you leave," Santana choked out, eyes going back and forth between intense blue.

Brittany's cheek quirked up in a regretful smile. "I don't know. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have. I feel so stupid for leaving."

Santana stepped forward and hugged Brittany around the neck, burrowing into her chest. They weren't going to fight and she wouldn't run; she was tired of that. After thirteen years of being together, friends and more, Santana didn't want to run away from their problems. They could work everything out, like they always had.

Everything just needed to be out in the open for once.

"You lied to me."

Brittany stiffened under her arms and recoiled as if she'd been burned. "When?"

Santana stepped back and out of her arms. "You had a crush on Quinn. You told me that. So if you didn't have feelings for her then, what changed?"

In fact, Brittany had told her that, word for word, months before.

_"I used to have a crush on Quinn. Did you know that?"_

_Santana's mouth fell open and she stared blankly. __'Quinn.'__ She said it out loud, "Quinn?"_

Brittany shook her head and stared at the ground. "I knew someday that would come back at me."

"What, that you liked her or that you told me?"

"Santana," Brittany let out a puff of air and continued, "That was a long time ago. And I didn't _like_ her, it was just a stupid crush."

"If it was a stupid crush you wouldn't have told me about it. You would have forgotten and brought it up when we were thirty, not when I asked you to tell me something about you I didn't know."

Brittany dropped back onto the edge of her bed and let out a frustrated groan. Santana felt about a second away from following her there, already exhausted from the conversation.

"Do you remember Mrs. Tera, our sixth grade music teacher?"

'_What,'_ Santana thought, glancing at Brittany in confusion. "Yeah. What about her?"

She could tell Brittany was trying really hard to manage her thoughts. "That solo she gave you, where you forgot the words and rushed off the stage almost in tears?"

"Mhm." Santana had absolutely no idea where Brittany was going with that story.

"Mrs. Tera told you how it would get better, and you would be better, and no one would remember what happened after a week. She made you feel better when you were absolutely devastated, right?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"What_ I_ remember about that whole situation, is that for the rest of the year you followed her around, being a bigger teacher's pet than Rachel. You crushed on her, hard."

Santana blushed, recalling the events Brittany had reminded her of. She _did_ do that, even if she didn't understand her own actions at the time. Plus, come to think of it, Mrs. Tera _was_ kinda hot.

"What's your point," Santana asked, defensively crossing her arms.

Brittany turned to her with a sedated smile. "Quinn made me feel better about you. She made me realize that one day you would come around, and had it not been for her being nice to me, I don't think I would have waited as long as I did."

"But that—"

Brittany shook her head. "You were so resistant back then to everything. Even I could understand you were terrified of having feelings for me. That hurt me I think more than anything else."

Reflexively, Santana grabbed Brittany's hand. "I'm sorry for that. But you can't blame me for you turning to Quinn."

"I didn't turn to her for that, though, Santana, that's what I'm trying to explain to you. She was a friend to me, and my crush might have been more than friendly, but it came out of her support for the two of us."

"That's really messed up," Santana joked, not actually finding it very funny.

"That's what Thursday night was too. Only this time we were both hurt, and nothing actually happened."

Santana took a minute to think it over. The previous thoughts she could erase were: Brittany liked Quinn, something actually happened, Brittany wanted to kiss Quinn. Well, she didn't actually know about the last one.

"If she wouldn't have stopped you from kissing her, do you think you would have?"

Brittany put her face in her hands and sighed. "That's an unfair question."

"It seems fair to me."

Still into her hands, Brittany answered, "Probably."

"Great," Santana sniped back.

"It wouldn't have meant anything, though."

While that thought lingered, Santana changed the subject. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew this," Brittany motioned up in the air," would happen to us. With my and Quinn's pointless history, I knew you'd find ways to put everything together, _like you're doing."_

"If you were me wouldn't you do the same thing?"

"No," Brittany said. "Because I know nothing changes how we feel about each other. Not even a drunken accident. I would know that you didn't cheat, and whatever happened meant nothing."

"That's easy to say, Brittany. Not as easily done."

"But why, Santana?"

"Because you don't trust me and I'm starting to not trust you."

That blow landed harshly and Brittany looked away, wiping tears from under her eye.

"I do trust you," Brittany said in a stale, reserved voice. "You're the one who won't take my word for something."

"Says the person who got jealous because I spent time at Rachel's."

Brittany scowled at her through wet eyes. "Not because I thought you'd screw around with her, S. Because you told me you'd help me finish school and went right over her house afterwards."

Santana looked up at the ceiling. "I told you I was sorry for that. You're passing now, why does that even matter?"

Brittany stood up again, getting in her face. "Because I wasn't for months, Santana! I was struggling and had to _beg_ Quinn to help me. And the one time I tried to celebrate with her, it backfired and now we're in this mess_. _And _I_ made everything so screwed up!"

Brittany sobbed, tipping forward into Santana's waiting arms, clawing again at her back for purchase. Santana felt the crippling effect in her heart and cried too, more contained than her girlfriend's efforts. Why did they have such problems? Everything had stemmed from that one time she misplaced her phone, and there they were, debating whether or not they trusted each other. The irrational part of her brain started to blame Rachel, but then she quickly assuaged that with how cool she had been over the last few weeks. What happened was nobody's fault but theirs.

"I'm sorry," Santana purred, running her fingers through the tail of Brittany's hair. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "This is my fuckin' fault. I'm sorry, Brittany."

Brittany's head twisted in her chest. "I d-don't want you to be sorry."

Santana slid her hand around to press against Brittany's lower back for support. "What then?" Her voice sounded almost as wounded.

Brittany struggled against her to regain stature, forcing Santana to tilt her neck up the slightest bit to keep eye contact. She'd give her that, it was the least she could do.

"Just forgive me for what happened. It didn't mean anything, I promise. And I only kept it from you because I was scared of what it would do to us."

Brittany placed her palm against Santana's neck and her finger tapped gently against the skin near the back as they settled. It felt so good she had to close her eyes. Brittany's voice drifted through between them.

"Please forgive me."

The room closed in around them as Santana thought it over. She wasn't mad at Brittany; she missed her too damn much. There hadn't been more than two or three happy moments between them for months. Fighting over trust was for people who didn't love the person they were with wholly and unconditionally. When had they stopped trusting each other? They _hadn't_. Why was she fighting with the love of her life? Her best friend. Her Brittany.

Santana pressed forward until her forehead lazed against Brittany's chin and shut her eyes. There were a few things that needed clearing up.

"Can I ask a few questions?"

Her head moved in tandem with Brittany responding, "Sure."

"You had a crush on Quinn, freshman year of high school because she was so good to you about me?"

"Yes."

"A crush that is gone and wasn't involved with Thursday?"

"Yes," Brittany exasperated.

"And on Thursday, neither of you made contact," she fumbled, "touched each—kiss—um—"

"We didn't kiss. Her lips stayed far away from my lips. Except, for well…" Brittany took in a large breath.

"Alright, alright." She cleared her throat. Um," Santana stuttered, "a-and you do trust me."

Brittany kissed Santana's forehead. "Of course I do."

"And you love me?"

"I love you."

Santana took a breath of her own. "Why did you leave the hospital?"

Brittany forced herself back enough so her arms stayed around Santana's neck, but enough that they were at least a foot apart. Santana didn't take that for a good sign.

"I thought," Brittany paused to glance between her eyes as if she were searching for something. Her gaze focused tentatively. "I thought if I stayed you would break up with me."

The honesty in blue eyes startled her. That thought seemed to break Brittany into a different person altogether. Someone frightened, alone, and simply empty. As mad as Santana had been, there wouldn't have been a chance she'd turn to that. Breaking up seemed such a foreign concept with Brittany. They'd always been something together, but if that happened what would they be? The uncertainty was too unsettling for her to consider.

Santana demanded her attention with a firm look. "Listen to me." She lightly grasped Brittany's arms. "You can get as pissed off at me as you want and I'm sure I'll get really angry sometimes, but we _aren't_ breaking up. Not as far as I'm concerned. And other people can think that's crap and unbelievable, but to me, that's the truest thing I could ever tell you. Because I believe it with everything I am."

Her fingers played around Brittany's wrist. "I've wanted you in my life forever and I can't imagine there ever being a time when you're not the only thing that I want." Brittany smiled with tears forming in both eyes. "We're going to be better for each other. We just need a fresh start."

"Clean slate," Brittany asked.

Santana nodded a few times. "Clean slate."

"Can I say something then?"

Santana let a half-smile appear on her face. "Mhm."

"I love you."

"Okay…"

Brittany smiled, flashy teeth sparkling in the dimly lit room. "I want that to be the first thing on the slate."

Santana dropped her head and felt her cheeks blush, smile drilling into the ground. "I love you too."

Brittany pulled Santana into a hug and nuzzled her nose into the navy sweatshirt she had changed into. "That slate's looking pretty good so far."

Santana laughed once and tightened her hold around Brittany's waist. "We'll keep it that way."

"Mhm," Brittany hummed into her shoulder. She tilted her head to the side so she could add, "I'm really sorry, Santana. I didn't mean to hurt you so much."

Santana smiled regretfully into Brittany's chest. "We never mean to, _do_ we? But I already forgave you, B."

"Thank you for that then."

"You're welcome."

"Are we going to actually be okay," Brittany asked innocently, fingers gripping Santana's shoulder.

Santana wondered herself.

"Nothing has ever been easy between us," she said. Her hands fidgeted with the waistband of Brittany's shorts nervously. "But we're still here, aren't we? Together?"

"I think if we're together, we can work the rest of it out. But _truly_ together. Not how we've been together."

"All I want is normal again, B. I want you."

Brittany nudged her nose against Santana's neck. "I want you."

She squeezed her around the waist again.

Santana stepped back and detached herself, immediately missing the contact. Touching between them ignited a feeling of perfection, in almost every sense of the word. She reached up and brushed away hairs that had fallen onto the girl's forehead to maintain a little of it, letting her hand linger and fingertips brush over the skin, wrinkled from the smile on Brittany's face.

"We should go see Quinn," Santana said. She was happy the words came out effortlessly and natural, breaking their calm silence without creating tension, the rift between the three of them slowly mending as more time passed.

Brittany's eyes turned eager. "Are we allowed?"

"Uh, my dad's the doctor, if they have a problem, we get privilege."

Brittany chuckled with a skeptical grin on her face. "I don't know if that's true."

Santana shrugged. "We're allowed."

"Well then, let's go."

Santana reached across the gap between them and claimed Brittany's hand in her own, happy to let their fingers intertwine together. "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>Quinn fumbled with the five cards in her hand, struggling to push the one second from the right up, allowing Rachel to seize it from her in triumph. She didn't know how she got roped into a card game when she had only one apt hand, but refusing Rachel didn't seem like an option at the time.<p>

"Are you giving me that one," Rachel asked. Her eyebrow rose in skepticism as she held her cards up in front of her face, determined to not let Quinn—who was on the opposite side of her—see them.

Quinn sighed, wincing at the pressure it put on her bruised cheek. "Yes, Rach."

Rachel scrunched up her face, without a doubt mocking her. "_Serious_ Quinn." She reached forward and snatched the card.

"You know that name thing doesn't work all the time."

Rachel's face perked up in amusement. "Oh really?"

Quinn nodded as little as she could manage. "Yup. Right now you think I'm serious," Rachel nodded, "when actually I'm _pissed off._"

Rachel's face shifted dramatically and Quinn had to hold back a smirk; Rachel didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry! We don't have to play this if you don't want to, I just thought it might be fun…" she looked to the ground and clenched her jaw.

The guilt knocked Quinn's desire to smirk away. "I was just kidding!"

Rachel's lips morphed into a devilish grin and she remarked, "I know."

Quinn wanted to shake her head but knew that would only result in more pain. She settled for rolling her eyes—which agitated the cut on her head—and mumbling, "Ass."

Rachel seemed pleased with herself. "You shouldn't mumble, Quinn."

Before she could respond, they turned to a knock on the door. Quinn glanced up and saw Brittany waving feverishly through the glass with a bulbous smile. Santana stood behind her with a restrained grin, probably amused at the image of them playing Go Fish before her.

Rachel stood up and opened the door to let them in. Brittany rushed over to Quinn's side, gently trying to press against her in a tiny hug. Softly from the foot of the bed she heard Santana murmur, "Be careful, Britt." Quinn anxiously waited for something to sharply stab her, but Brittany must have been a lot more cautious than she expected.

Brittany leaned up and surveyed her appearance diligently. "How are you, Q?"

"I'm okay," Quinn lied, saving Brittany from the more painful expressions she had only shared with the doctor. Rachel had also been kept in the dark for how hurt she really felt.

Santana glanced at her like she suspected that.

"Are you losers playing Go Fish," she asked instead, sparing Quinn of that interrogation. Santana tilted her head towards the cards Quinn held against her thigh in one hand.

"It's a perfectly normal game, Santana," Rachel supplied, defensively picking up her own cards. She held them at a slight angle, Quinn figured, in case someone else was to join the game they wouldn't have seen her cards.

"Mhm," Santana hummed, replacing her suspicious stare with a smug smirk.

"Ooo, can I play?" Brittany looked back and forth between Quinn and Rachel, clapping her hands together when Rachel nodded and steered her towards the end of the bed where the pile of cards sat.

Santana moved in closer to Quinn and looked her over.

Quinn felt a little uncomfortable under everyone's constant scrutiny of her jumbled mess of a body: her mom, Santana's Dad, a nurse, and then Santana herself. It was a little overwhelming.

"Can I help you," she asked, irritably.

Something flashed behind Santana's eyes and she quickly muttered, "Is there a way to make Rachel leave and take Brittany with her?"

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed together. "I could probably think of something, why?"

Santana dipped her head to encourage Quinn to take that course of action; she complied with the first thought that came in to her head. It wasn't all that much of a lie anyway.

"I'm kinda hungry," she projected through the room. "Rach, could you maybe take Brittany and get me a yogurt from the cafeteria? And coffee for the rest of you."

Rachel smiled up at her and nodded. She glanced at Santana and asked, "Is black fine with you, Santana?"

"I drank it the other night, munchkin," Santana retorted without any malice. The way Rachel didn't react to the nickname made Quinn feel like she had missed out on some sort of buddy-ritual between them.

"Alright. Ready, Brittany?"

"Can I get yogurt too," she asked Rachel and Quinn had to smile.

Santana pulled a five dollar bill from the pocket of her jeans and slid it into Brittany's hand. "Yes, babe."

"Sweet!" Brittany hunched forward and pecked Santana's cheek. Quinn watched the skin start to blush as the other two left them alone in the room.

Santana turned to her sheepishly and took two small steps towards the bed. Quinn watched her study the covers before picking a spot and sitting down near her hip.

"Why are you embarrassed," she asked. "I've seen you two kiss before. And there were tongues involved."

Santana shrugged, glancing up at her with determined eyes. "Maybe because it's the first time it's happened after finding out _you two_ have kissed." She stared with a menacing grin. "And then almost-kissed."

The color drained from Quinn's face and she felt all the blood rush to her ears. Brittany wasn't supposed to tell. But maybe all bets were off when she had been rushed to a hospital. The weird thing was, Santana didn't seem all that mad, but more entertained by the way Quinn started to squirm. If Santana's inspection hadn't intimidated her before, it definitely did after that.

"S-Santana, I…" Quinn struggled to find words as the grin didn't evaporate from Santana's mouth.

"Good," she said, "now I know you at least feel guilty about it. So explain why you didn't tell me anything?"

Quinn took a breath. "A-About which one? The k-kiss or umm, the other one."

"Either." Santana sat statuesquely, waiting for her response.

She cleared her throat to stall for words that struggled to appear in her mind. _'Just start,'_ Quinn told herself.

"On Friday, we talked at Breadstix, right before you gave your speech." She tried to gauge how that affected Santana but the girl remained emotionless. Simply unaffected. "Britt didn't want to tell you because she was afraid of what would happen. And I knew that you two weren't on the best terms, so we agreed to not say anything, because nothing really _happened_ in the first place." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and watched Santana to see if her answer satisfied.

Santana let a half-smirk appear on her face. "Well," she jerked her head to the side as she spoke, "that story checks out. So round two, Fabray."

Quinn felt she should have gone with the harder explanation first.

"Santana, when we were freshman, how would you have described me?"

She didn't seem to like the table being turned on her, but still replied, "Uptight, bitchy, wholesome."

"Uptight." Quinn nodded for a brief second. "Freshman Cheerio Quinn Fabray knew she liked girls. Can you even imagine if that had gotten out that year?"

Santana nodded. "Your life would have been over. You wouldn't have been a Cheerio, your parents probably would have kicked you out. I know, Quinn, what's the point?"

"For the both of us, Brittany's been the light on dark days." It sounded perfectly poetic coming from her lips and the way Santana smiled meant she understood. "I was so scared of who I was, but I knew she could erase that for just an hour and I'd feel better. She's always been able to see past how we act to who we are, and I needed her that day. Even if I didn't plan on," she scanned Santana's face warily as she said, "_kissing_ her, I wouldn't have survived without that day."

The room was filled to the brim with overflowing sunlight through each window, all of which were opened by Rachel to "enhance healing." Since Santana had started her questioning, everything felt a little touch darker, but as the girl appeared to think everything over, the room seemingly brightened in Quinn's peripherals.

"Did you know about me and her then?" Santana broke out of her clouded reverie to stare, warm and entrancing, up at her.

Regretfully, Quinn nodded.

"She suggested things on occasion. And I have eyes, which could easily spot the way you stared at her. Don't hate me for it, but I fully knew at the time how you felt for each other."

Santana glanced down at the thick, blue hospital sheets. "Why couldn't you tell me then?"

She didn't have to ask to understand what that meant. Without double-thinking it, Quinn reached over and grabbed Santana's hand, wary of the IV in her wrist.

"We weren't who we are now back then, S. We loved each other, but we were still bitchy teenage girls trying to make a name for ourselves."

Santana shakily ran her thumb over the back of Quinn's knuckles. "I wouldn't have done that to you."

"I couldn't know that at the time. And you know why we didn't tell you about that back then, right?"

"Same reason you wouldn't tell me about what happened on Thursday?" Santana's face snapped back up into Quinn's line of sight.

Quinn smiled delicately, careful to not strain her damaged features. "I love you, Santana, but we wouldn't be friends right now if that came out back then."

Santana groaned, tilting her head back. "Probably not." She laughed. Quinn joined in until her ribs hurt too much. Santana noticed.

"Tell me the truth about all this." Santana made a sweeping motion over her body and she frowned.

Quinn tried to sit up a little more, for her dignity's sake. "I can feel the big gaping hole where my spleen used to be, my ribs hurt every time I breathe, I can't move my legs in these damn casts, and I can't even express how upset I am because my face is all cut up." She smiled sarcastically. "Oh, but my shoulder is starting to feel better, so that's just _super_."

"And the drugs—?"

"Doing a tiny job. They keep me tired enough to sleep. And I can't feel anything when I'm asleep."

Santana looked concerned. "Can't the up the dosage or something? You shouldn't be in pain." From the way she sounded, Quinn wouldn't have been surprised if she jumped up and found the nearest doctor to bully into helping her feel nothing at all.

Quinn chuckled with a small smile. "I'm alive, Santana. I think that's what counts."

After a moment, Santana answered, "Is it?"

She didn't understand. "What does that mean?"

Santana dropped her gaze and picked at the sheets. "I don't like how you always get shit on, Q. If it isn't getting pregnant, or dealing with Rachel's crap, you get hit by trucks. It's not fair."

Quinn released Santana's hand and scratched at her nose as she looked away. The sentiment couldn't have been more wrong. That's not how she felt at all. Things didn't go her way most of the time, but the end results had started to work in her favor. Santana needed to understand that.

"Those things don't just happen to me, S. I chose each and every one of them. I slept with Puckerman because I was drunk. Sex made me pregnant, not some random force. And I screwed my chances with Rachel up over and over again. No one had a say in that relationship, mostly because they didn't know about it. And as far as the truck, if I hadn't been halfway into the passenger seat trying to grab a piece of paper, I wouldn't have swerved my car."

"You don't blame anyone for that? Puck got you pregnant. Rachel left you for Finn. Brittany left that paper on the floor."

"I could have stopped all of that from happening if I wanted to. Things don't just happen to us."

"That sounds like bullshit to me." Santana crossed her arms. "I think we're at the mercy of someone for every decision or thought we have."

Quinn shook her head. "Fate doesn't exist to mess with us, Santana. Fate is what kept me alive, what gave Shelby a daughter, and what brought Rachel back to me."

Santana let out a breathy guffaw and shook her head. "You're a trip, Q."

"I don't think 'belief' is something we'll ever agree on," Quinn teased, flicking Santana's knee with her thumb and forefinger.

"Probs not."

"Good English."

"I think you mean 'well English,'" Santana answered with a smirk.

Quinn chuckled. "You're so dumb."

Santana tilted her head back, "Well, yeah, and you're an asshole."

Quinn froze. "Excuse me?"

"You almost died, bitch. Don't do that again."

Quinn gave Santana the finger, frowning. "I'll try really hard."

Santana chuckled and grabbed that hand, sliding her fingers open to hold her hand. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Glad enough to play a round of go fish with me, Rach, and Brittany?"

Santana rolled her eyes and leaned back to the two sets of cards and the deck, selecting Rachel's and examining them.

"Sure if you don't tell her I just found out what all her cards are."

Quinn smiled, glad she hadn't ended up with an added black eye. There could have been horrible outcomes from that conversation.

"Q."

Quinn picked up her own cards and looked through them. "Hmm?"

Santana tapped her leg, making her glance up. She was glaring at her.

"Don't ever fucking kiss Brittany again."

Quinn swallowed a lump that manifested in her throat.

"Noted."

* * *

><p>Brittany toed the line at the edge of the mulch pit, putting one foot in front of the other across the wooden ledge surrounding a freshly painted, orange, swing-set. Sometime in the last few months, a new project had overtaken Lima Park, enforcing—what they read on the sign on the way in—new safety regulations and spawning fresh equipment. Her first idea had been to check if <em>their<em> swing still had a place in the new design; it did, only had been taped off to endure a new coat of paint and maintenance.

They ended up across the park on a completely new set, her swinging and Santana leaning against a pole, staring out across at the lake. Brittany noticed a dock being built on one end and hoped they would still be around to see its completion; a trip out on the water they had fruitlessly circled around almost daily in childhood felt due to them.

Santana shivered in front of her, the February air deciding to fall back in with the rest of the world and feel cold. Brittany wondered if they would have to buy winter coats for California; she'd ask later. After a few rounds of Go Fish and one round of War with Rachel, Santana suggested they leave and let Quinn have some quiet. But, Rachel had earlier proclaimed that she wasn't leaving for one second—something Quinn had made a joke about not showering to—and Brittany figured out Santana had wanted to be alone with her. Santana had driven to the park and actually waited in front of the car to hold Brittany's hand as they walked across the grass. She was elated.

"We haven't been here in so long," she called out to Santana, kicking off the ground to put more power in her swing.

Santana didn't look back at her but nodded, thick hair swishing around her shoulders. "I miss it."

Brittany smiled at her, even thought she couldn't see it. Maybe _because_ she couldn't see it. The sadness wasn't directed at them, but at the park. For a long time, everything sad Santana said felt like an attack towards her. She loved when they were a force, together upset at the world and not each other.

"Maybe that's why we've been so miserable," she suggested.

The dirt shifted as Santana turned around, a confused inanition on her face. Brittany admired the tired curvature of her face and wished she could look as beautiful exhausted as Santana could.

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't been here in so long. Maybe this place like recharges our love or something. And we didn't come, so we're cursed." Her lips shifted into a grin that Santana didn't return.

"Yeah, maybe," she responded, distant.

Brittany stopped swinging and sighed audibly. "Come here."

Santana walked over and stood in front of her, hands reaching up and grabbing the chain. She smiled up at her and slowly turned her around with two hands on her hips.

Santana chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"Sit down," she instructed, pulling Santana into her lap. Once they were settled she circled her arms around the girl's waist. "I was joking."

Santana leaned back into her slightly. "I know."

Brittany rested forward into Santana's back, cheek pressed against her shoulder blade. "What's on your mind?"

Her hands were quickly grasped by one on either side of Santana, fingers forcing their way between hers, cemented together. She squeezed them, letting her know whatever she needed to say would be okay.

"I'm sorry, Brittany."

Vague would have been an understatement. Before she had a chance to ask, Santana forged ahead.

"I didn't mean to keep you away for so long. I was just too afraid."

She could tell from the stiffness in her back that Santana also needed to be turned away to admit her sorrow, even if Brittany didn't understand it.

"Quinn's face when she saw us kissing…it just—"

Brittany was confused. "Wait, what?" She assumed Santana had been talking about the last few months, but felt lost, not getting the reference.

"At Puck's party. In seventh grade. You remember that right?"

Brittany remembered rushing from the room when Santana pushed her away, words stinging her eyes. _Yeah,_ she remembered. "Mhm."

"All the girls were grossed out and especially the way Quinn looked at me. I knew something was wrong about it. About kissing you."

"Santana…"

"No," Santana tugged on her hand, "I need to get this out." Brittany just nodded into her back. "I think that's the night I realized how hard it would be for me to admit everything to you. Not because I didn't like you, or I was rejecting the feelings, but because I knew then everything would change. I knew everything would get ten times harder after that. Because I wouldn't have wanted to hide anything with you."

Brittany smiled into the material of Santana's hoodie. "I wouldn't have forced that on you. We could have been a secret."

Santana's body huffed in her arms. "You didn't deserve to be a secret. That's why I never told you. I didn't want whatever I did to screw you up. You would have resented me for that."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you said I hurt you by keeping you away and I want you to know why I did that. I wanted to protect you."

Brittany could hear how true the words rung and sincere. But that didn't mean she agreed with them.

"Protect me from what?"

"From what I would have done to you."

Brittany couldn't disagree with the idea and hugged Santana harder to counteract it, wanting her to know she didn't blame her for anything. Not since they were together.

Her lips mumbled against the jacket, "I wish I could have protected you from everything else."

It was Santana's turn to ask, "What do you mean?"

"If I could have made it so you could be yourself from the beginning, I would've. So you didn't have to worry about being you."

Santana twisted back and rested her head on her own shoulder with a content smile. Brittany lifted her body to meet Santana's face, urging her closer for a kiss.

A kiss perfect enough for the moment. They didn't need some over-the-top smacking of lips; a light pressure got across what they felt for each other. The desire hadn't changed from when they were children and Brittany felt herself in a room full of valentines, the wall outside Puck's house, and tucked into Santana's bed.

Santana's nose nuzzled hers. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Making me feel like I deserve you."

Brittany kissed her again.

"No one else does."

Santana breathed a laugh. "Why's that?"

"I don't love anyone else."

She kissed her, holding a little longer than before.

"Me either."

"Perfect," Brittany joked, resting her temple against Santana's cheek.

* * *

><p>Her dad was still at the hospital and her mom was nowhere to be found. A text could have located her, but Santana didn't care enough to make the effort. The house hadn't been completely empty for a long time and it felt even longer since she and Brittany had made use of the seclusion.<p>

What had started out as a dual shower quickly escalated into her bedroom, a rush of moans and heavy breathing accompanying them into each other. Brittany paid a certain attention to her that she hadn't ever before; almost like they were having sex for the first time all over again. Only she felt more comfortable, more allowed to feel.

Brittany's head propped up the sheets as she kissed her way back up Santana's stomach, tongue dipping out to taste the sweat-soaked skin. Santana fought the oversensitivity to enjoy every brush of their skin, happy to have the feeling back at all. She could live off Brittany's intimacy if she ever needed to; she wanted to.

Perched on her stomach, where her exploration had ended, Brittany leant an elbow into the bed, cupping her jaw in the dip of her hand. The fingers of her other hand landed on Santana's wrist, skirting their way up the skin, swirling around the tiny arm hairs. They met the crease of her elbow and dropped in to examine it, copying the scar where Cuddles had gotten Santana on their first night with her. Santana smiled, feeling her go over the indentation a few times.

As her fingertips continued their passage to Santana's shoulder, she asked, "What would have happened if we never met each other?" Brittany's eyes sparkled as she tickled the skin on her neck.

"I don't know." She didn't really know how to answer the question because she hadn't ever thought about it.

What _if_ she never met Brittany? Would she have ended up as the same person?

Brittany's fingers touched her collarbone and examined the length of it, planting the flat of her palm in the middle once she had surveyed both.

"No one else makes me feel the way you do," Brittany continued. "Would that be different if I never met you?"

Santana lifted her grip from the sheets and threaded her fingers through the mess of blonde hair falling onto the bed from the way Brittany's head tilted.

Brittany's forefinger had danced onto her breast, tracing along the outside with enough pressure to not be teasing her. The touch wasn't enticing, but expository. Brittany questioned her body the way she questioned her vocally; trying to learn something new.

"I think I would have stayed miserable for a lot longer," Santana concluded. Brittany made her a different person. Not as bitter or angry. It stood that if she had never existed for her, that negativity would have built on itself.

"I wouldn't have had anyone to keep me safe." Brittany longed after her examination of Santana's ribs, poking the skin around where her heart would be. The pokes would have been painful if it weren't Brittany; maybe that was the point.

"Does it bother you if someone pokes inside your belly button?"

The question made Santana laugh outright. She shook her head back and forth and smiled up at the girl who was staring down into her stomach.

Brittany's finger circled around her belly button, breaching the edge for a second and then pulling back, waiting for a more solid answer.

"No, B. Why?"

"I think it feels weird." With that, she poked inside Santana's belly button.

Santana squirmed at the tickling pressure, unsure of why she had never experienced it before. She cleaned her belly button when she showered, but hadn't ever poked around to see how it felt.

"That doesn't feel weird?"

"It makes me feel like I have to," Santana said breathlessly, "pee, or something."

"Something?"

"Like your finger is inside my stomach," Santana informed her, still squirming. "Stop, I don't want to get up and pee."

Brittany laughed and removed her finger, kissing the skin on her belly again, her lips warm and soft.

"Creep," Santana mocked, closing her eyes to the sensation.

"I just wanted to see," Brittany said between breaths.

She couldn't believe yesterday they were hold up in the hospital waiting to hear if Quinn survived a car wreck. Only a day had passed and as the sun drifted low on the horizon through the view of her window, the orange and purple sky darkening, Santana realized how tired she actually was. Nothing felt right the day before. Everything felt right then.

"I should have told you I needed your help with school. I just didn't know how," Brittany said.

Santana's hand left her hair and cupped her face. "I didn't make it easy on you."

Brittany smiled against her palm. "I shouldn't have blamed you for anything. I wanted to do it on my own, but I also needed you to make me feel like I was doing the right thing."

"Britt," how did she admit the truth? _'Say it,'_ she told herself. "Helping you with school made me feel powerless."

Brittany's brow furrowed and her hand gripped Santana's bare hipbone.

"What if you weren't learning anything? What if I couldn't help you do better? I would have felt like such a failure."

"Santana, your job wasn't to make me do better. It was to help me as _I_ made me do better. Does that make sense?"

She nodded.

"No one expected you to teach me thirteen years of school all over again. I just expected a certain amount of support."

"I'm sorry for not helping. I was afraid to study with you and then watch you fail again. If you had to stay back a year, I would have blamed myself."

"That's dumb," Brittany said firmly. "It's not your fault."

Santana glanced behind Brittany and sighed. "It felt like it though."

She felt a nip of teeth on her hip and yelped. She looked back and saw Brittany scowling up at her.

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your problem to deal with, it was mine. I understand if you can't help me, but do _not_ blame yourself. I blamed you and I feel bad enough for that. Don't do it to yourself."

She had to smirk at the playground glare Brittany threw at her. She tapped her fingertips against Brittany's cheek. "Okay." Brittany's lips curved into a beaming smile. "But if I don't help you, you have to keep working with Quinn."

Brittany's smile dropped and she thoroughly inspected every inch of her face. She could tell what was coming.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Mhm," Santana hummed. "I trust you and I trust her. Plus she has a threat to abide by."

"I can't believe you threatened Quinn after she got hit by a car." She shook her head. "I could tell after we came back in the room that you said something. Her face was pale."

Santana smirked. "It had to be done."

Brittany lightly nodded towards her stomach. She leaned forward and kissed between her breasts. "It's not going to make you uncomfortable?"

"It won't. I promise."

Brittany crawled up the bed and laid against her, bringing her lips down to kiss Santana firmly. "Thank you."

The warmth of having Brittany against her didn't deter her from the next thought, though.

"I might chaperone a few of those though."

Brittany bit her lip and chuckled. "I knew there'd be a catch."

"What?" Santana laughed. "The three of us can spend more time together then."

"Good idea." Brittany kissed her, licking the underside of her top lip and she moaned softly.

Brittany pulled away and hovered over her. The tenderness blanketed her, gazing up into cool, blue eyes, pouring every emotion into her.

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did before," Brittany said, dragging her nose across Santana's cheek, kissing at her ear.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against her temple. "It surprises me."

"Me too," Santana whispered, eyes shut, taking in everything that was Brittany, and hopefully always would be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: come at me bro**

**thanks though, even if you do :)  
><strong>


	53. i'd rewrite your point of view

**A/N:** **Hiya! Okay so plot wise this may not do much but set up other chapters, but whatever. I penned a lot of this out on notebook paper before typing it and somehow that made my writing a little different (at least in my opinion) ? I don't know but it was refreshing and if you're ever struggling to write, I suggest it. Enough boring authors note, have fun :)**

**********As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!******** The more of you that show up, the more concerned I get!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>On Saturday night, after a pleasant shopping trip with her mother, Brittany went up into her room and practically collapsed on the bed. Walking around all day had made her legs incredibly tired; and that was saying a lot coming from her. They practically sprinted from store to store, even after she assured her mom they wouldn't run away before she got there. She wouldn't have any of it and demanded they move faster.<p>

Brittany untangled her hair from its band and stretched across the sheets, letting the hem of her shirt rise up along with her arms. Santana had invited her over that night and she felt like a nap would be useful in staying up to hang out with her longer. And to do…other things.

Interrupting that wonderful thought, Brittany felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her jeans. She almost felt like ignoring it and dozing off, but it could have been _anyone_. Her tired limbs made the process of extracting it a hundred times more complicated than it should have been, but eventually she managed the task.

**(2:39 PM) Kurt: **Hey.

Her cell phone-sense kicked in and she could tell there was something off with Kurt. She hadn't talked to him since the hospital and while she wished it could have been under different circumstances, she couldn't help but be a little excited he messaged her.

**(2:40 PM):** hey. whats wrong?

**(2:41 PM) Kurt:** Your ability to know that something is wrong from a simple text message never ceases to amaze me.

She laughed, but then realized he probably wasn't.

**(2:43 PM):** you didn't answer my question

**(2:44 PM) Kurt:** Remember how you told me about Santana and you made me swear to keep it a secret years ago. Well you can't tell anyone, including Blaine.

That didn't sound good.

**(2:45 PM):** Explain :(

**(2:46 PM) Kurt: (1/2) **I got a letter today from NYADA and they basically told me that due to qualifications, I wouldn't be able to attend in the fall. So I didn't get into school there. And I'm kind of freaking out because I didn't make back up plans. I don't know what to do and the more I think about it,

**(2:47 PM) Kurt: (2/2) **the more I panic because what am I supposed to tell Blaine? That I'm not going to New York? And what about Rachel? What if she gets in? She'll feel horrible.

She could tell how scared he was. And honestly what could she say back? He had only applied to one school, expecting to get in alongside Rachel. Brittany figured he would make it, no questions asked. Her experience dealing with grades and not knowing if she was getting into college gave her an undeniable sense of perspective. Although she could relate, Kurt probably wouldn't take solace in that fact.

**(2:50 PM): **Kurt, it'll be okay. You still have a few months to figure something out. You should tell blaine though, he should know, I think

**(2:51 PM) Kurt:** What do I tell him? That he has to leave without me? I can't go to NY b/c I'm a loser who can't make it?

**(2:52 PM):** don't do that. you're not a loser, you just weren't what they looked for. you're a wonderful singer and dancer, they just didn't get to see it because they have to choose from a lot of people. It doesn't make you any less good.

**(2:53 PM) Kurt:** My application didn't "stand out" is what the letter said. I just really don't know what to do Britt. I told my Dad and he told me he'd support me but what does that mean. Support me in what?

Brittany tried to think of what Kurt could do with his future. What had he been good at? He did well in performances, but didn't show the same tenacity and passion Rachel or even Blaine showed for it. Not to say that he wasn't good enough, but he didn't seem to want it as much. She couldn't remember a time when he had shown any interest in being famous for singing or dancing. What could he be good at then?

The shopping bags stood in the corner of the room staring, glaringly obvious of the answer she would come to. Brittany ran almost every one of her outfits through Kurt at one point or another; he made comments and criticisms on almost everyone's clothes without being prompted. He had maintained a perfect style for himself and could do the same for anyone else if need be, if they had asked him. It was one of the reasons Brittany liked him, and liked shopping with him, because he knew what she'd pick before she decided herself. Maybe his innate talents were not for performing, maybe they were for fashion.

**(2:54 PM):** have you ever considered like helping people pick out clothes for a living? what's that called?

**(2:55 PM) Kurt:** A fashion consultant?

**(2:55 PM):** Yeah, I guess. Couldn't you do that

**(2:56 PM) Kurt:** And give up on everything else? I don't even know how I would start to do that.

**(2:57 PM):** i don't know either. maybe ms. pillsbury could help you or something?

It took him a little while to respond and she hoped he had been considering it.

**(3:08 PM) Kurt:** …do you think I'd be any good?

**(3:08 PM):** I think you'd be wonderful at that :) don't give up hope yet. i'll help you figure something out.

Santana, Quinn, and even Rachel had rallied around her when she couldn't raise her grades. Her relationship with Kurt had been distant lately, but that didn't change how important he was to her. If he needed help, she would gladly give it.

**(3:09 PM) Kurt:** Well I certainly do know how to select an appropriate blazer.

**(3:10 PM) Kurt: **You're an amazing friend, you know that?

She blushed into her hand.

**(3:10 PM):** you've always been a good friend to me, so I try to be back :)

**(3:11 PM) Kurt:** Thanks, Brittany.

**(3:11 PM):** if you need to talk I'm always here. okay? whenever?

Brittany stood up and started to get ready for Santana's. She felt like her friendly duties had been performed to the best of her abilities and he seemed to feel at least a little better about it. Helping him made her feel wonderful, happy to return the favor for how he had helped her over the years.

It was then she decided to make more time for Kurt in her life. He was someone she wanted to keep around, permanently. Well, not physically, because he had to figure stuff out and that probably meant New York. But if she could make him important in her life again, their friendship would work long distance. She smiled, hoping they could work on that.

**(3:15 PM) Kurt:** I'll keep you updated. Thanks again. I don't know about telling Blaine yet, so do you think you could help me in the meantime?

**(3:16 PM): **we can go to ms. Pillsbury together, okay? it'll be fun to find something new .

**(3:17 PM) Kurt:** Monday then?

**(3:18 PM):** Monday! :)

**(3:19 PM) Kurt: **I'll see you then! :D

She shoved her phone in her pocket and left her bedroom, satisfied she had done something good.

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana endured thunderous knocks on Santana's bedroom door. Brittany woke up pretty easily, rolling over and out of Santana's grasp. That elicited a mournful grunt, Santana not wanting to be abandoned so early in the morning. Brittany couldn't help but laugh and give her a few kisses, some to her lips and some to her cheeks, before she got up and walked across the floor to answer the door.<p>

Brittany almost didn't believe her eyes when she opened it and found her mom on the other side, standing next to Santana's mom. They were grinning from ear to ear and she double checked to make sure she had clothes on, not understanding why they were amused.

Maria peeked through the door and saw Santana still rolling about in bed, refusing to let being awake happen without a fight. She laughed and yelled past Brittany, "Get up mija!"

Brittany rubbed her eyes. "What's going on?" She knew they couldn't be in trouble because Maria laughed.

"We have to talk," Anna said. "About visiting schools."

"As soon as she's coherent, meet us downstairs," Maria told Brittany, smiling.

They both turned and walked away, Anna departing with a last message of, "Make sure you brush your teeth!"

Brittany watched them go, still very much confused. Maybe they were an elaborate dream. She pinched herself but didn't wake up.

She went back to the bed and jumped down next to where Santana still fussed with the blankets, dragging them up and over her head.

"S. Get up. Our moms want to talk to us."'

Santana groaned. "Why is your mom even _here_?"

"I don't know. C'mon get up." She shook Santana's shoulder, determined to wake her up. "If you get up and we get the conversation over with, we can come back up to bed."

Santana snorted into the pillow. "That's what they want you to think. It's a trick."

Brittany rolled her eyes and laughed, shoving Santana again. "I'm going to brush my teeth and if you aren't up I'm dumping water on you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm not kidding, Santana."

Santana shoved her away by the arm. "Go."

Brittany scoffed, standing up and going to the bathroom. She found her spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and set to brushing her teeth. Threatening Santana didn't seem like a good idea, because she knew there had to be a follow through; she wasn't going to be up when she got back. She didn't really want to splash water on her, but their moms were waiting.

Under the sink, she found the cap to a bottle of mouthwash and filled it with the coldest water the bathroom sink would produce. She wasn't even completely out of the bathroom before she saw Santana, still in bed, no longer writhing around, but completely still.

With a smirk, Brittany crossed the room holding her cup of water, determined to prove that she would go through with it. If Santana wouldn't get up willingly, she would after an involuntary bath.

"Are you getting up," Brittany asked one last time, standing at the edge of the bed.

There wasn't an answer. Without any other hesitance, Brittany raised the cup over Santana's head, ready to pour it out.

Before she started tipping it sideways, Santana lunged for her middle, dragging her onto the bed. She squeaked in surprise, laughing as the water fell over the both of them in the struggle. She giggled as Santana rolled her over and pinned her down, hands holding her wrists to the bed.

Looking up, the water had splashed Santana's hair enough to plaster it against her forehead. Brittany chuckled but felt the water seeping through her tanktop, sticking it to her stomach.

"That wasn't very smart," Santana joked above her. Her hair was in messy curls, eyes glazed over in tiredness.

"I'm not the brightest, or so I've been told," Brittany whispered back. She fought for a second against the hands holding her down, but couldn't break free.

"Don't threaten me."

"Don't ignore me."

Santana laughed. "Clearly, I didn't. I'm awake."

"But we're both wet."

Santana leaned down and kissed her. "Some more than others."

Brittany's cheeks flushed and she shoved at Santana again. "C'mon. I want to go back to bed."

Santana let her go and fell sideways into the ruffled covers. "Then let's just stay here."

Brittany got up out of bed and pulled the covers away, leaving Santana on the bare sheet. "It's about college. It's important."

Santana groaned and slid to the edge of the bed, tentatively pressing her feet to the floor. "It could wait."

Brittany shook her head and ran a hand through her tussled hair. "You're five."

Leaning into her hand, Santana groaned again. "Mhm."

She abruptly dropped her hand, turning away to leave the room. "Let's go."

"Fine."

Santana's footsteps followed behind her as she descended the stairs, finding their way into the living room where Maria and Anna were having coffee, both peering down onto the screen of a laptop. Brittany moved onto the opposite couch from them and dropped into a chair. Santana followed and collapsed onto the floor in front of her legs, leaning back into them.

Anna surveyed their appearance and laughed. "Did someone not want to get up this morning?"

Brittany nudged Santana's shoulder with her knee and earned a groan in response.

"We've never tried water," Maria mused. "Next time, maybe."

Santana slapped Brittany's foot lightly. "Thanks," she murmured.

"You're welcome."

Anna closed the lid of the laptop and took a drink from her coffee. "We'll make this quick so you can do whatever you need to do today."

"Sleep," they echoed each other.

Their moms laughed, turned to each other, Brittany guessed deciding who would go first.

Her mom obviously got first dibs.

"Your Easter vacation starts on a Thursday and we thought since there are no other vacations this school year, we could make the trip to Los Angeles then. Brittany, you need to audition and I've already set up a meeting with a counselor who wanted to talk about your academics."

"And Santana, you need to visit campus, just to get a feel for it."

Santana yawned and scratched her eye. "But I don't even know if I got in there."

Maria shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You still have to visit. That might even help if you meet admissions counselors who would have a face to put to the name."

Brittany asked, "So when are we going?"

"We'll leave Friday morning, April sixth I think, see the schools Saturday, and then explore the city a little on Sunday. Monday morning, we have an early flight back, so you'll have to miss school that day." Anna double checked the information on a notepad sitting next to the computer.

"Score," Santana said.

"I'm sure you'll be able to make your last few classes," Maria said, a glint in her eye.

"Or not," Santana mumbled.

"So that's it," Brittany asked.

Anna and Maria nodded, looking at each other to check. Brittany could tell there were as in sync as possible, thoughts and actions both. The idea of them having been a couple didn't seem so farfetched when she started to pay attention to them.

That prompted her next question.

"Are we all staying together?"

Santana turned back to her with a questioning expression on her face. She just shrugged her shoulders as a response.

"Well," Anna started.

"Why would we stay separate," Maria cut in.

"I just mean we're going to have to sleep in the same room. And that'll be, what, like two double beds? I know Santana is gonna want to sleep in bed with me, so doesn't that put the two of you in the same bed?"

Realization seemed to dawn on everyone at once, Maria and Anna especially who appeared to have not even registered that possibility.

"U-Um," Anna stuttered.

Brittany could practically hear Santana smirking in front of her.

"We're adults, girls. It doesn't make a difference."

Santana twisted back to her. "If you say so," she muttered under her breath. Brittany joined in on smirking.

"Enough," her mom demanded. "Grow up a little, will ya?"

They both nodded in silence, biting back smiles on each of their faces.

"Can we go now?"

Anna covered her face and Maria sighed at her daughter. "Fine. We'll talk more when it gets closer."

Brittany and Santana stood up and left the living room. On their way out, Brittany couldn't help but ask, "We can't be related, right?"

She heard a gasp and groan mix in with Santana's laughter.

* * *

><p>Santana didn't happily receive the school abuzz with rumored deaths and pile-up car accidents on Monday. And after Quinn hadn't shown up Tuesday through Friday<em> either<em>, the inaccurate information continued to spew from one classroom to the next. If her own memories of that day weren't clear and descriptive enough, she could breach into the conversation one desk over and relive it with new vigor.

'_The car swerved into a ditch where it totally did, like, five flips! I saw it! I was there!'_

'_I heard she's in a coma. They're deciding whether or not life support is worth the trouble. I mean, it __**is**__ Quinn Fabray.'_

While that girl had endured a rigid slap to the face in a back hallway after gym class, Santana had given up on trying to dispel the gossip. Quinn survived, the glee club knew, and Figgins hadn't organized any lame memorial service; she could live with the bullshit going on around her.

On Friday, after a painful glee rehearsal, which consisted of Brittany, Rachel, and her not giving a shit about what was being decided or practiced, the three of them rushed to their cars.

Quinn finally came from the hospital and they wanted to be there on her first day out.

Santana wasn't surprised to see Rachel beat them out of the parking lot, but she also might've been stepping on the brake to let that happen. Brittany didn't seem to care or notice really.

"I don't think she should be speeding," Brittany observed, watching Rachel turn a corner sharply ahead of them.

"She has to get to her woman," Santana joked. She reached across the divide between them and put her hand on Brittany's exposed thigh, courtesy of WMHS cheerleading uniforms, her favorite perk of the uniform.

Brittany glanced down and she caught her smile glowing from the corner of one eye. She looked over and raised an eyebrow to Brittany's behavior.

"What," she asked.

Santana smiled, chewing on a piece of gum she had started in glee—there wasn't any singing going on anyway for her to spit it out. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because."

Santana laughed and said, "Vague, much?"

"Because I missed you," she shrugged and added, "like this."

Santana smiled and ran her hand back and forth comfortingly. "Me too."

The drive to Quinn's was short, made all the faster by trying to stay in viewing distance of Rachel's car, zooming around corners and aggressively cutting people off. Santana had half a mind to slap her when they arrived at Quinn's house if she needed a reminder of why Quinn had been in the hospital.

Brittany flicked her hair band out and shuffled the hair down onto her shoulders when the car stopped along the curb outside Quinn's house. "Hasn't she been at the hospital, like, every day?"

"Mhm," Santana answered, checking her makeup in the mirror. She grabbed lip gloss from a cup holder and ran it along her lips for a touch up.

She could see Rachel already knocking on the door through the passenger window. Brittany followed her line of vision just as the door opened and Judy skeptically welcomed her inside. They both laughed at the scene and turned to each other.

Brittany spoke first and asked, "Do you think Judy knows?"

"How could she not," Santana joked. Rachel had the subtly of an elephant when it came to her persistence. She could've waved a flag around declaring her love for Quinn and been more subtle. Santana knew from experience that Quinn's mom wasn't a stupid woman; she had been giving _them_ knowing glances since they showed up in middle school. While that had never transpired in some sort of altercation, considering Mr. Fabray's aversion to the idea, it might have only been because it was _them_ and not Quinn.

Admittedly, Santana was curious of how that reaction would pan out. Hopefully interesting, in the chance that she'd be okay with it. She knew she'd be more surprised if Judy accepted it rather than rebuked it.

"You ready?"

Santana came out of her thoughts and nodded, opening the door and getting out. Brittany waited in the grass for her and they walked up the looming path to the Fabray's—which felt not-so-loomy anymore—hand in hand. Santana knocked on the door, excited to see her friend.

As the door opened, Judy smiled at the two of them. "Hello, girls."

"Hey Mrs. Fabray," Brittany said, grinning from ear to ear. Their relationship had always been tentative at best; Quinn had confided in Santana once that her mom was confused about Brittany's 'ditziness' and whether it was an act for people to find her more likeable. Santana hadn't been all that fond of Quinn's mom after that. And after the whole, kicking Quinn out thing.

"Hey," Santana greeted informally. "Is she in her room?"

"Yes she is. Rachel showed up just a few minutes ago." Judy glanced behind her and then back to them. "I'm glad to see her coming around again. It was a real shame they stopped spending time together last year. Quinnie seemed much happier then."

"Mhm," Santana hummed, side-eyeing Brittany. _'If only you knew why,'_ she thought with a visible smirk to match.

"Oh, well. Go on in." She ushered them to follow her down the hallway and trotted towards the kitchen when they reached the doorway.

"Thanks!" Brittany pushed the door open and was met with the sight of Rachel propping a pillow up under Quinn's legs, shifting it back and forth trying to make her comfortable.

Quinn appeared conflicted between agitation and adoration at the way the girl tried to dote on her, which was wholly amusing to Brittany and Santana both. When she looked up at their entrance, her whole body relaxed.

"Guys," she greeted them. "Come in."

Santana could hear the plea laced in the beckoning. "How're you feeling, Q?"

Rachel sat with her knees into the comforter at the bottom of the bed near Quinn's legs and watched her and Brittany find spots on either side of the room: Santana took the chair from Quinn's desk and Brittany sidled up on the bed next to Rachel.

"I'm fine." Quinn's smile didn't seem false as she reached over and nabbed a bottle of water from her side table. She struggled with the arm she still had in a sling and Rachel took over, claiming the bottle and removing the cap for her. "I'll just have to start drinking from glasses only," she joked, settling the growing tension in the room.

"Did they give you pills that make you loopy," Brittany asked, leaning backwards on her forearms firmly planted on the bed.

Quinn nodded. "I haven't taken any though. I knew you'd all want to come over and see me today. Didn't think drooling and passing out were appropriate ways to entertain guests."

They all snickered and Santana said, "That would be highly entertaining."

"I'm sure," Quinn answered with a mischievous grin.

Aside from the obvious injuries Quinn had, they were getting along in the usual way. Brittany joked with Quinn about having a sponge bath from the orderlies, Rachel stared longingly at Quinn in obvious ways that only Santana, in her normal role of plainly observing, seemed to pick up on. They all had gone back to normal; just the way she liked it.

"Do you know when you're coming back to school," Rachel asked. Brittany had just crossed back from the other side of the room with Sharpies to mark on Quinn's casts.

"Oh!" Brittany dropped the markers and abruptly left the room. They all watched her go with confused looks, but eventually shrugged it off waiting for Quinn's response.

Quinn shrugged. "They said I could go back Monday if I felt up to it. The hospital even gave me a wheelchair on-loan so I could make it around to classes."

"Do you," Rachel prodded. "I mean, feel up to it?"

The bed shifted as Quinn tried her hardest to move with one hand propelled into the bed, dragging her closer to the end table where an orange prescription bottle sat.

"Physically, I'd say yes," she answered, offering the bottle for one of them to open it. Rachel grabbed it first and opened the top, checked the label, and then removed one pill that she handed back to Quinn. Quinn swallowed the pill with a gulp of water and then repositioned herself against the headboard, resting the flat of her hand against her ribs. "But I don't know if I'm ready for everyone to see me and talk to me."

Rachel laughed in disbelief. "You can't stay held up in your room for five weeks while your body heals, Quinn. You can't miss that much school."

Santana recognized the gritting of teeth Quinn tried to subtly disguise. "I'm coming back. Just not yet, Rach."

Rachel made a "humph" sound and crossed her arms, glancing at the ceiling. Quinn looked to Santana for support but earned a reproaching shake of her head. There wasn't anything that would make her agree with that; Quinn needed to be back at school for her dignity to return, if that's what she had actually been worried about. Hiding away would only let her worry herself into imagining the whole school thought she was worthless, not worth remembering. Santana wouldn't agree to that.

That seemed to infuriate their friend.

"It's my choice," she accused them, hand flinging up at the side. Rachel immediately tended to her, trying to calm her down while Santana only shook her head again.

"I brought your homework!" Brittany walked in the room carrying a backpack over her shoulder and two textbooks in her hands. "I totally had to break into your locker to get these, but the janitor said I could just buy you a new lock." She dropped everything before noticing the disheveled state of the room. "What'd I miss?"

No one said anything and she hopped back into her spot on the bed. "Well?"

Santana held back a smirk and scooted her chair over to draw on Quinn's cast. Brittany glanced up at her worriedly and she subtly shook her head to let her know it didn't matter.

Rachel crossed her arms and stared at the wall, brooding. "I just would like you to come back to school, sooner rather than later. For your own good."

Brittany sat upright and looked at Quinn. "Are you not coming back to school?"

"I don't know yet." She smiled sympathetically and then turned to Rachel with a restrained scowl. "While I appreciate that, Rachel, I still think I know what's best for me. I'll decide on Monday after I rest for the weekend."

"Alright, as fun as this is, Britts and I just wanted to see how you were doing. We have a date." Santana glanced at Brittany whose smile multiplied. She'd been excitedly torturing Santana all day about wanting to go out that night until she finally agreed.

Rachel turned to them with a renewed enthusiasm. "Oh? Where are you going?"

Santana shrugged. "Not sure yet. I thought we'd just find something."

"That could take forever."

Brittany interjected, "That's why it's fun."

Santana noticed Quinn smiling at them, perhaps genuinely happy to be home with her friends. Under different circumstances, she might have opted to stay.

Instead, she hopped up and slapped her palms to her hips. "You ready, B?"

Brittany had just been finishing the last stripe on her cat drawing, capping the marker and flinging it carelessly to the bed. "Yup."

"I better see you at school, Q," Santana threatened from the doorway, Brittany's arm linked through hers, still mildly confused.

"Just leave, Santana," Quinn answered exasperatedly.

Brittany waved goodbye and Santana tipped her head to Rachel. "Later midget."

"Goodbye, Santana," she heard faintly as she shut the door.

* * *

><p>After asking the two of them what they wanted for dinner, Judy left for the grocery store. She came back with a car full of food, various candies, and six or seven movies from RedBox. Quinn and Rachel ate in her room, baked penne with roasted vegetables, entertaining small conversations about how school and glee club had been for Rachel the previous week and Quinn's first few physical therapy appointments working on her shoulder. Each offered equally painful stories, Quinn admitting to crying behind a locked bathroom door and Rachel retelling how she had encountered the same jock who slushied Santana with an icy beverage of her own. Quinn had to grit her teeth at that, as clenching her fist proved a little too obvious, and, well, painful.<p>

As the night drug on, Quinn started to notice that Rachel was a little more reserved than usual. Aside from when she needed to readjust her pillows or sit up to take a drink, Rachel wouldn't touch her. Eye contact lasted a little less than normal; she found the walls and bedding more compelling than Quinn's attention while she told stories. She didn't understand if it was a fear of hurting her, or plain fear of being near her.

Halfway into _Contagion_, after subtly watching her grimace and fidget for most of the film, Quinn couldn't take it anymore. Especially since she had moved to the white computer chair in favor of the bed, quoting "comfort" as her excuse for leaving it. _'Pretty sure a bed is more comfortable than a chair.'_

"You can sit next to me, you know," she said, keeping her eyes on the television. "I'm not like, terminal."

She heard Rachel clear her throat, uncomfortably. "I know. Like I said, I am more comfortable over here."

"Because I'm over here," Quinn asked a little hurt.

Rachel's head darted in her direction. "No, of course not. I don't want to make you move to accommodate me. You should be relaxed."

Quinn eyed the wide open spot next to her good arm, and looked unbelievingly at Rachel. There had to be more to it. Wasn't telling Rachel how she felt supposed to make them better? Why wouldn't she just sit by her?

"I think I'd be more relaxed if you were next to me," she retorted.

Rachel seemed to deliberate it, her teeth running tracks over her lip in thought. She must have settled on a decision, because not a minute later was she crossing the room to sit next to her. Awkwardly, Rachel chose the side of the bed with Quinn's sling-ed arm.

She slid a leg up onto the bed and then realized she wouldn't be able to fit the rest of the way. A weird second passed where she stayed in a regret-filled limbo of suspension on the bed. It was like she didn't know if she could get up and switch to the other side or had to remain in that position for the rest of the night. Quinn watched her in mild amusement.

"Rach, go to the other side."

"Why," she protested. "I'm quite comfortable now."

"_Rachel_."

An audible sigh later, and a grumble of, "You're making me miss the movie," Rachel found her way over to the other side of the bed and climbed up into the empty spot next to her. The rich scent of Rachel invaded her senses as she settled, sharing one of the larger pillows between them, their heads lined up next to each other against the wall. Quinn felt at ease, actually _relaxed._

"Happy?"

"Very," she answered. "Comfortable?"

Rachel turned and smiled at her. "Very."

With Rachel at arm's length, well really in arm's length—they touched slightly at the elbows—Quinn let her mind wander. The movie interested her, but not enough to escape the nagging thoughts about what she and Rachel had become since leaving the hospital. Even at the hospital, they never exchanged more than a comforting hug when she'd had an off day. Stress couldn't be helping the healing process, but that's what Rachel brought about in her every day since the accident. Stress over what would transpire between them, or when it would occur.

Somewhere in her trance, Rachel had inched away; subtle enough to not disturb her, but obvious enough to notice. What had that been about? She bathed before any of them had come over this afternoon, as best she could given the garbage bags practically disguising her lower half. Her breath couldn't reek of that much garlic from dinner, they had both started gum afterwards. What could be keeping her away?

As much as she trusted herself, Quinn yielded to the idea that she might've been overreacting. Rachel might not have been avoiding her physically and her rattled mind had confused personal space for isolation. With that notion, she decided to test that theory. In a not-so-delicate way.

She rose her arm up in between them, stretching it towards the ceiling. It put a little edge of pain onto her ribs, but she managed it for long enough to let it feel good. Rachel eyed her nervously from beside her and she smiled.

"Stretching," Quinn explained, moving the arm about in its joint. Rachel nodded in understanding and turned back to the television across the room. That's when she went for the big money and rested her arm down around Rachel, hooking her fingers into the opposite side of the pillow, basically cradling the girl in her arm.

The reaction said more than her thoughts could disagree with.

Rachel tightened the muscles in her upper back, stiffening under the contact. She wrung her hands in her lap, legs twitching against the teal of Quinn's comforter. Visibly uncomfortable felt like an understatement.

"Okay," Quinn said suddenly, taking her arm back. "What's going on?"

Rachel turned to her almost quivering at the tone, lip worried between her teeth. "How do you mean?"

"Please cut the crap, it's giving me a headache. Why are you being weird around me?"

"I'm not being weird," Rachel asserted. Her hands went to smoothing the pleats of her skirt, adjusting it down over her knees. Quinn followed the motion until she snapped back into the conversation. "I'm not."

"You are," Quinn demanded, piqued. "Do we need to talk about something?"

"Like what?"

Quinn motioned between the two of them. "What _this_ is, maybe."

"Quinn…"

"No, Rachel. I need to know, because it's kind of driving me crazy."

Rachel grabbed the hand she had been flinging back and forth, covering it with both of hers. "Please calm down. We can talk if you want to talk."

"I want to," she enthused.

"Well, what?"

Quinn halted, confused if Rachel was playing stupid or actually didn't understand.

When she didn't say anything, Rachel asked, "Do I need to say something first or?"

"Do you have anything to say?"

Rachel seemed to think about it. "Yes, actually."

"Go ahead, then."

Rachel took her time to look for the remote and pause the movie. Quinn figured anything she could have found to stall with, she would've used. But, being in her bedroom, there wasn't all that much to work with. The resident sigh in her chest preempted the conversation, making Quinn uneasy.

"I hope that you," Rachel turned to her, "don't think I expect anything of you. While you're in this condition."

"Expect anything? Like what?"

Rachel glanced away again. "Renewing our…relationship."

"Oh," Quinn answered. It hit her finally that Rachel wasn't comfortable for _her_ sake and not her own.

"I understand that you may need time to forgive me."

"Forgive you?"

Rachel picked at a loose thread on the bedspread. "My dress fitting did cause your wreck after all. I mean if I hadn't yelled at you, you might not have left and gotten hurt."

Rachel still blamed herself. On the list of things she hadn't wanted as a result of her accident that ranked at about number one. The girl was quick to blame herself in every situation and while that aggravated her, it kind of moreover made her sad.

"I don't blame you, Rachel."

Rachel looked at her. "Why not?"

"It wasn't your fault. _I_ went into the other lane, _I_ wasn't looking. I don't blame anyone but myself." Quinn moved the hand Rachel still held between hers as a sign of assurance, flipping it over enough to rest her fingertips against Rachel's palm. "Besides, it already happened. I'm not wasting my time by thinking about it."

Rachel's mouth twisted into a smile, full and content. "Well, that's certainly good to hear."

Quinn reflected the smile. "I wouldn't blame you."

A faint blush appeared on Rachel's cheeks as she turned away. "D-do you have questions?"

Quinn skipped any formalities and asked, "What do you mean, expect a relationship?"

"I just mean we don't have to rush into anything yet."

Quinn watched the profile of her face as she talked and couldn't help but grin at the poise in which she spoke. Like she expected Quinn to be analyzing everything she said and a statuesque posture wouldn't give anything away. In fact, it did almost the exact opposite.

"Would it bother you if we did," Quinn asked sincerely.

"I-I, no why would it?"

Quinn pushed up against Rachel's hand, testing the pressure. "You just have an ex-fiancé to consider. I don't want to force you if you aren't ready."

"He and I have discussed it. We're on a steady path to being friends."

"Just friends?"

"Yes," Rachel argued.

Quinn nodded. "Rachel if you aren't ready, I understand."

"Quinn," Rachel turned to her again. That must have been exhausting turning back and forth. "I just don't want to jump into being together. I think for your healing and mine, we should take it slow."

"So," Quinn assessed, "we're just friends too."

"Have we ever really been just friends?" She laughed. "We're more than friends, I think."

Quinn smirked. "Friends with benefits?"

"Quinn!" Rachel scowled at her playfully and had to restrain a hand from smacking her. She flinched anyway.

"I'm kidding!"

"Ugh. No. Think of it more as friends with, um, potential."

Quinn liked the sound of that even more. "I have one more question before we start the movie back up then."

Frustrated, but still smiling, Rachel asked, "What?"

She tried to think of the best way to word it.

"As your friend-with-potential, is it still okay for me to have my arm around you? And maybe as my friend-with-potential you could lean in instead of away. Friends snuggle, right?"

Rachel laughed and leaned forward cueing her to wrap an arm around her. Quinn felt her body move closer, warmth spreading from every place where she squished tight enough to touch.

"You're going to mock that name aren't you?"

"Only a little," Quinn answered. "And seeing as my only good hand is occupied, you can press play on the remote."

"Lazy." Still, Rachel did what she had been asked, finding the remote in the covers.

"If lazy means I get to lay in bed with you all night, I'll take it."

Rachel pressed play and then turned to her. "Yeah, me too." She laid her head down against Quinn's shoulder, nuzzling her t-shirt.

Friends-with-potential sounded really good.

* * *

><p>A town over, in Delphos, Brittany and Santana drove around until they found a restaurant they could both agree on. It turned into a sort of game: who could find the better restaurant. Eventually, Brittany found Fratello's Pizzeria, a small place they'd never visited before, almost dead center of the main district.<p>

Not particular about her food intake, given Sue allowed the seniors a few more dietary liberties, Santana knew a greasy slice of pizza would satisfy all the right cravings. Brittany seemed pretty enthusiastic about it too. The way her mouth seemingly watered the second they stepped through the front doors and were greeted with the heavenly scent of fresh cooked pizzas and garlic based meals told her they made a smart choice.

"Want to sit anywhere special," Santana asked, helping Brittany out of her Cheerio's jacket.

"A booth," she responded, hopefully.

With an encouraging smile, Santana led her to the left side of the heavily decorated room and slid into a seat. She was surprised when Brittany followed her into the same seat, their thighs pressed tightly together. Santana ducked her head and blushed, allowing the comfort to overtake her anxiety and force it to the back of her mind.

"Can I sit here," Brittany asked with a bubbly grin, teeth widely on display.

"Of course." She placed her palm on Brittany's leg.

A teenage girl, maybe the same age or younger than them, came up to the table and beamed.

"Welcome to Fratello's, my name is Angie, what can I get you?" Her young age was more reflected in the high pitch of her voice; Santana thought she might have just been very tall.

Brittany glanced at Santana, drawing the waitress' attention. Her gaze shifted confusedly as she stared at Santana, a little wide-eyed. It wasn't all that subtle or hard to notice. Instead of causing a scene, Santana smiled at her.

"Yeah, can we just get one pepperoni? And," she turned to Brittany and asked, "what about an order of garlic knots?"

Brittany nodded and then turned back to their server. "Two cokes too." She snickered a little and Santana figured it was the repetition of the word 'two.' It made her smile.

"I'll put that order in and be right back with your drinks." She penned the order on her pad and departed them with a service smile. A little of her puzzled expression lingered while she walked away from them.

Brittany turned into her, overlapping one of each of their legs. Santana snuck an arm behind Brittany's waist and held her.

"How'd you know they had garlic knots?"

Santana pointed across the densely populated room to a table near the entrance. "Saw someone with them and they looked delicious."

Brittany laughed and leaned her head against Santana's arm. She loved when Brittany acted like that, completely at ease and adorably in love. It was a good look, a perfect look.

"I love how much you love food," Brittany teased.

"If I'm going to be putting something into my body that I have to work off later, it better be damn good," Santana explained a little too surely; from the smirk on Brittany's face anyway.

Their server reappeared with a basket of garlic knots and their drinks. Santana knew it was as close to breadsticks as she was going to get from another restaurant and dove in enthusiastically to claim the first one.

Brittany and weirdly Angie observed her moving the hunk of bread near her mouth. Only before she could take a bite, a sharp intake of air startled her into dropping the food.

Santana glanced up and saw Angie staring down at her in realization. That look scared her immeasurably; had they been recognized? Had _she_ been recognized? Of course they had, because one night out with Brittany couldn't go right when they were still living in Ohio. The part that tipped her off wasn't the way Angie looked at her, but rather the way she observed how they were seated: Brittany intimately draped over her lap.

"Oh my god," Angie said softly. "You're…that girl, from the commercial."

Santana's color faded and Brittany dropped her attention from Angie to the table. She didn't know how to handle it and obviously Brittany didn't either.

"Um…" Santana couldn't decide between attitude and humility. Attack or hide.

Angie didn't give her a chance.

"Wow. You can't imagine what you did for some of us at school," she told them, grin returning.

Brittany's head shot up again, excitedly looking back and forth between the girl and her.

"What?"

Angie didn't look like she understood. "A lot of us came out after that. We were, like, _inspired._"

'_Inspired? How the hell did that commercial inspire anyone?"_ It practically ruined Santana's life, her reputation. Why did it apparently have the opposite effect for someone else?

"Explain," Santana demanded a little hostilely.

Angie gulped.

"The PTA got a hold of that video and used it as some scare tactic against students. It was a huge deal. Parents were _picketing _and _rioting_ at the high school." She sounded animated in her description, proud almost. "A bunch of us formed a group of LGBT students to join the parents' protest. You like," her smile doubled as she elated, "paved the way for us."

Brittany grabbed her hand and squeezed it. That stalled the tears that threatened to stem from the corner of her eyes. Inadvertently, she had encouraged others to come out in their communities. Sure, she didn't have much say in it, but apparently a good cause grew out of her misery.

"I didn't have a choice," Santana explained, desperate to correct her. She wasn't someone to be looked up to. "Did your little _group_ know that?"

Angie covered her mouth, too shocked and embarrassed to take offense. "Oh…we, w-we didn't know."

Santana picked up the food she had dropped, determined to not let the conversation ruin her evening.

"Yeah? Well now you do."

"Please, um…"

"Santana."

"Santana," Angie repeated, like she had just stumbled onto a million dollars. "I meant nothing by it. Honestly, we didn't know it was at your expense."

Santana wiped her mouth with a napkin and gave Brittany a sparing glance. "You all came out after you saw it, right? How many of you had it broadcast to the tri-state area?"

Angie seemed to perk up. Not with cheeriness, but confidence.

"Most of us actually. Live news coverage of our protest," she offered as an explanation. There was an air of cockiness about the girl, Santana noticed. Something similar to herself, someone who had lost a fight or two and needed something to make her tougher; bravado.

Brittany set down the drink she had been meticulously sipping from to ask, "So there are a lot of kids at your school who are out?"

Angie glanced back towards the kitchen where an elderly man, round-stomached and balding, demanded her assistance. The boss, most likely.

"One minute, alright?"

They both nodded and she scurried away.

"This is awesome." Brittany turned to her. "You influenced people."

Santana spoke around a piece of bread, "How? By having my personal life exposed to thousands of people?"

Brittany frowned at her. "Santana…you helped people. Regardless of how, that doesn't change what the result was."

"I know what the result was, Brittany. I lived it. I still have people giving me sideways glances when I go to pick up food, or when I need to get my nails done. Guys still whisper about me at school. Most of the Cheerio's refuse to change in front of me. Ever notice that I go in last?"

Brittany grabbed her hand again and sort of forced her to listen. As if she weren't already.

"This is a good thing, S. You look at the glass half-empty or whatever but for once look at the other half. You may not have wanted to, or let it happen, but these people see you as a hero."

"So I have to pretend that I was okay with that ad airing, with being out of the closet?"

Brittany laughed and she looked on, puzzled. "Santana. Look at where we are. I'm on your side of the table, _finally_, holding your hand without the napkin. You've been okay for awhile now." She leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips, to solidify her point Santana guessed. "See. Not even a flinch."

Brittany was right. Of course she was. There wasn't anything left to hide from the world. The world knew, whether she wanted it to or not.

Her image up on that rainbow screen had helped others accept themselves. Why would that be a bad thing? A girl somewhere, hell not somewhere, Angie herself could see Santana as an example, someone to identify her struggle with. Someone who overcame what had happened and still went out to dinners with her girlfriend. Who was she to deny anyone of that comfort?

"Let something good come of it," Brittany said finally, gazing at her lovingly.

"Something already has," Santana told her. She leant forward and took another kiss, hers to steal.

xx

Angie came back with their pizza and stood around for a few more minutes to explain the extent of the group's efforts to spread an anti-bullying movement through the school. She told them how a few of the more popular cliques had agreed when one of their own came out. A girl whose name Brittany and Santana were surprisingly able to identify as someone they went to cheer camp with. A girl that Angie had actually gone on a few dates with.

Through the whole conversation and even after they were left alone to finish their meal, Santana couldn't help the burn of jealousy in her stomach. These kids were allowed to congregate and openly share how they felt about each other for the rest of their high school careers, the time when they needed that confidence most. Meanwhile, she had been clinging desperately to the rich confines of her proverbial closet, scared for one shred of light to pierce the entrance, only to be cast out face forward. Frankly, she didn't that that was fair. Hadn't she been tortured enough to deserve that kind of refuge?

The only justification she could find was that these kids weren't fighting for someone special. Her struggle wasn't about finding herself; it was about the courage _to be_ that person. Until they had a great love of their own, they wouldn't understand why she had been so disturbed by the outcome of her life. She didn't _want_ to come out of the closet. She had been perfectly content loving Brittany in secret; hidden away, the world couldn't tarnish what they had created together. She fought to keep that out of the light lest it be taken away from her.

The decision wasn't made by her, but for her. She was lucky enough to survive with the one thing that seemed to make the everyday struggle worth it: her love.

Maybe she was the lucky one. The hardest part was already done for her. She had suffered; nothing could be done about that. But in her own ways, she had healed. Her outing had been a great event and everyday for the rest of her life she would stay an outsider. But on the opposite side of that great event, she had found a place of peace. A world to lose herself in.

A world with a name she could say aloud.

"Are you ready to go," Brittany asked, beautiful blue eyes twinkling at her penchant gaze.

"Mhm," Santana answered, standing up from their booth. She turned and reached into her wallet, extracting a fresh twenty dollar bill, sliding it under the salt shaker as a form of tip. Angie deserved it for finally making her realize what she needed to understand.

She was okay.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! :) **


	54. i get so high when you're with me

**A/N: Okay, so, first off, sorry. My computer overheated and I was about ten degrees from melting my processor so I've been working to get it fixed over the last couple weeks and now if you're keeping a tally, this would be the second time I've broken my computer in the process of writing this story haha but I've actually been struggling with writing more of this story now that it's coming to a closing but I promise you it will be finished and not left with no ending. I talked with Breakdown6 and I'm thinking I could possibly have 5 or 6 more chapters out of this, but there's always the opportunity for more. Anyways, this is a part 1 of 2. If I kept them together it probably would have gone to about 16,000 words and that's a bit excessive in my opinion. So the next part will be up in a few days, as long as I get some free time to write soon. Just stick with me, we've come this far :)**

**********As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!******** I hope everyone's still enjoying it :)**

* * *

><p>Quinn did show up to school that week. Santana was glad to not have to start another argument with her friend so early out of the hospital. Seeing her roll down the hallways did serve a small amount of amusement as well, though she'd never let anyone, including Quinn herself, know that.<p>

Santana watched the first couple days as Rachel followed Quinn around cautiously, like the wheelchair would suddenly burst into flames and send her back to the hospital, which she found even funnier. Most especially, she enjoyed hearing the hidden growls of frustration Quinn expelled every time they were alone together in the bathroom together after deceiving Rachel into letting her have a few minutes alone.

She realistically could have followed them in, but after a stern command that she didn't need help going to the bathroom, Rachel backed off Quinn. Santana followed her inside and strained to contain her laughter only long enough to get inside the door.

"_How can she be smothering me when we aren't even dating," Quinn groaned, brushing her hair back behind her ears. "I love her, but she needs to understand I broke a few bones. I'm not paralyzed."_

_Santana wiped away a rogue tear from her laughter. "Aw, come on, Q, she's just wants to take care of you. That whole Florence Nightingale bullshit or whatever."_

_Quinn had glared at her. "That's when you develop feelings, moron. Not when they're already there."_

"_Maybe she's having more feelings. Like the feeling of wanting to change your bedpans." She smirked and avoided a deliberate roll of Quinn's wheels towards her foot._

In her honest opinion, Santana thought the way Rachel acted was adorable. A teeny, tiny, small part of her insane consciousness might have even wished she could get in a minor accident to have Brittany fawn over her in that way.

Then again, Brittany _had_ been acting that way; ever since she revealed what had happened between her and Quinn, the girl had paid extreme amounts of attention to her and attempted to wait on her hand and foot.

Attempted, because Santana wouldn't let her most of the time, trying to convey that she understood why it was happening and that she didn't think it was necessary. After two weeks of denied food runs and one-sided sex, Brittany seemed to get the message.

She didn't blame Brittany for what happened and the longer they acted as if what happened had somehow changed them, it eventually would. Santana didn't want that. She wanted everything to go back to normal. And after three weeks, everything had been put back in its place.

* * *

><p>Brittany tapped her pencil against the fresh set of practice problems and rolled her eyes up to think. Even if she hadn't been thinking about the next day—their flight to California—the problems weren't coming easy to her. She glanced up and saw Quinn rifling through an Algebra textbook, completely distracted in her pursuit of more torture to put Brittany through. With her distracted, Brittany took the opportunity to seek out Santana's gaze from the corner of the room.<p>

It wasn't that hard, considering. Since they had started the new round of tutoring, Santana included, she mostly sat there and found ways to distract Brittany's attention. She'd throw erasers at Quinn's head, groan/sigh/huff, or slide onto the bed next to Brittany and help her with whatever she was working on. After Quinn saw that, however, she mandated Santana stay off the bed or away from the desk while Brittany worked. Brittany felt very grateful Quinn made the effort to keep them on track, because she knew she wouldn't if they were alone together.

Santana had already been staring at her when she found her eyes, warm and teasing. Brittany smirked and arched her eyebrows, in a mock effort to entice her. Santana smirked at her and shifted in the chair in just the right way for her Cheerio's skirt to ride up around her butt. Brittany couldn't help but drop her gaze and grin.

Without moving her head from the book, Quinn mumbled, "Could you two stop being pervs for an hour, please? She has a test on Tuesday, Santana, and with you two gone all weekend, there won't be another chance to study for—"

"Alright!" Santana got more comfortable in her chair. "Chill the fuck out, Fabray."

"S," Brittany chastised. She tried to distract Quinn by scribbling stuff down onto the notebook and handing it to her. "Is this right?"

Quinn grabbed a pen and checked over the work, comparing it to the notes she had on a scrap paper laying flat against the bed. "The work is right, but you didn't add this up correctly." Leaning to the side she pointed to it and said, "See twenty-seven and thirty-eight would make sixty-five, not sixty four. Besides that, you did the problem correctly."

"Sweet," Santana complimented from the corner of the room. "Can we take a break now?"

Quinn dropped the notebook and glared at her, shifting hair out of her face. "What are you taking a break from? Breathing? That might actually be a little more productive for us."

"Screw you. I painted my nails, did my own homework, and sent Brittany some dirty texts. I got a lot accomplished."

Brittany excused herself from the conversation to check her cell phone. With a newly formed blush, she caught Santana's eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Santana shifted her stare from Quinn to Brittany quickly with a smirk, but then went right back.

"Relax, Q," Santana said, crossing her arms. "You'll pop a stitch or something."

Quinn shook her head. "Nice try, but the stitches dissolved a couple of weeks ago, genius." Instead of turning to Brittany with new questions, she simply dropped her book and got as comfortable as she could against the back of her bed. "We can take a break. I don't think I have much choice in the matter anyway."

The chair creaked under Santana as she leant backwards, tipping the legs off the ground. "Mm, I can't wait to leave tomorrow."

Brittany rolled onto her back. "I wish you could come, Q."

Quinn laughed. "I have a hard enough time getting around my house still. I don't need to be an inconvenience in another state. You two will have fun out there. Just take a bunch of pictures for me to see."

"We will. If we're not too busy," Santana teased. She and Quinn made faces at each other.

Brittany was excited. She'd never been past the middle of the United States, even for their Cheerleading competitions, and flying completely cross-country felt exhilarating. The idea of checking out where she and Santana could be living for the next four—or more—years of their lives made her even more excited. That added with the prospect of spending three days with Santana and their mothers, she was set.

"Do you think we'll like the schools?"

"Probably," Santana said. "They seem pretty tailored to what we wanted, so how bad could they be?"

"Unless you get gross roommates," Quinn joked, snarling her lip. "Someone who doesn't shower or brush their teeth!"

Brittany gagged, imagining a roommate like that. "There aren't people really like that, are there?"

"She's just trying to mess with us because she's afraid of all the nerdy chicks she'll meet at Yale. Girls with no style or social sophistication. Basically, a few more Rachels."

Quinn launched a pillow across the room and it hit Santana square in the face. "Shut up."

"Bite me," Santana growled, throwing the pillow back. It hit Quinn in her hurt shoulder and Brittany flinched.

"Stop," she demanded.

They both put their hands up in surrender and smiled at Brittany. She returned it to both of them and rolled onto her back. In just twenty-four hours they'd be eating dinner in Los Angeles, planning trips to their respective schools, and discovering the new path they'd head down when school was over. That realization made her nervous, but in a good way. She felt that they were finally moving on with their lives; high school would soon be a thing they joked about in passing conversations with one another. Whenever they could get the chance, or more specifically, when they and Quinn could get a chance.

A week earlier, Brittany had coaxed Santana into having a conversation about the distance between her and Quinn. It was part of her mission of making sure the two of them remained friends, even on opposite sides of the country. Brittany didn't worry much about that herself, knowing Quinn would be somehow in contact with her for the rest of her natural life, but she didn't want Santana to make the mistake of letting _their_ friendship fall between the cracks. A preschool relationship that had managed to last fourteen years wasn't worth throwing away, in her opinion, and she tried to distinguish Santana's feelings about the whole situation.

_Unfortunately that conversation hadn't gone the way she'd anticipated._

_Santana was across Brittany's bedroom, checking her email. Brittany decided not to hover around her while she started asking questions that she knew were going to make Santana upset and fell backwards on her bed. _

"_Do you know the time difference between Connecticut and California?" she asked, hoping Santana knew the answer._

_In a timely fashion, she answered, "New Haven is three hours ahead. Why?"_

_Brittany smiled. "How did you know that?"_

_She could practically hear Santana hesitate. "Uh, I looked it up."_

"_When?"_

"_When Quinn said Yale," Santana confessed. She swiveled around in the chair to face her. "About five minutes after she told us in the coffee shop."_

_Brittany sat up and fell forward onto her stomach. She propped herself up with one fist digging into her chin, her arm on the bed. "Are you going to be okay with the distance?"_

_Santana shrugged and turned back around in the chair, picking at her ponytail. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."_

"_But don't you think it's going to be harder?"_

_Santana groaned and sighed in tandem. "Of course it will be. But she'll be there and we'll be somewhere else and that's that. We can't push the states closer together."_

_Brittany could tell from the sallow tone of her voice that Santana had given it more thought than she'd let on. There was a penchant longing in each word, a distant apprehension for the idea of being separated from Quinn. Brittany understood but she wanted Santana to admit more, to express a bigger discomfort than what she showed._

"_Do you think she's upset about it," she asked._

_Santana shrugged again and twisted her neck from side to side. It made a sickly cracking noise that floated across the room and Brittany flinched. _

"_Santana…"_

"_Brittany?"_

"_Talk to me."_

_Santana turned around again and laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. "I am talking."_

"_You're de…deflecting. Yeah, deflecting!"_

_Santana furrowed her brow with a timid little smile that forced her cheeks up. _

_Brittany explained, "Rachel taught it to me."_

"_Another reason to stifle the midget," Santana mumbled to herself, staring at the ground to avoid her gaze._

"_C'mon. I know you have to be feeling __**something**__ about it, S. Why won't you just tell me?"_

"_Because."_

_Brittany let out a breathy laugh. "That's not an answer!"_

"_I don't want to talk about it, Brittany! Ask me when schools over. Not now. I can't," she breathed in and out, "__**handle**_ _thinking about that right now."_

"_It's okay if you're going to miss her, Santan—"_

"_Brittany?"_

_She tilted her head up in acknowledgement._

"_Please. Not right now?"_

_That ended the conversation almost as quick as it started._

It wasn't a secret that Brittany was going to miss Quinn, so she didn't understand why Santana had to make it a secret that she would. Or maybe she didn't know her girlfriend as well as she thought she did and Santana _wasn't_ going to miss Quinn. She quickly dismissed that idea for nothing short of false and shook her head to herself subtly. Outside of each other, Quinn had been both of their go-to friends, especially when they _couldn't_ talk to each other. The absence of her from her life and from Santana's was going to be a hard hit and she could sense they both knew that.

"Quinn," Brittany said, obtaining her attention. "Do you know if you're coming home for Thanksgiving?" She took in Santana's whole body tensing from across the room.

Quinn tucked her lips in her mouth. "Maybe. I think so."

Brittany turned to Santana. "Are we?"

Santana didn't catch her gaze and shrugged. "I don't know. It's April. We don't even know what the breaks are yet."

"Yeah, but you have to have an idea of whether or not you're coming home," Quinn said.

Brittany was startled to hear Santana's tone perfectly echoed in Quinn's voice. The question of whether or not they were going to miss each other had been revealed in one expertly interpreted question. She was happy to have paid that much attention to that conversation she had with Santana the week before.

Santana glanced from Quinn to Brittany in an effort to detect if she had heard the same lilt in Quinn's voice that she had. When their eyes met, Brittany watched the realization dawn on her and the instantaneous effort to hide it. Again, she was confused.

"It depends on money, Q," Santana said firmly. "Right?"

"Mhm," Brittany said with a smirk.

"So I'll see you at Thanksgiving right," Quinn asked again, a more solid inquiry that seemed to push Santana over an edge of sorts.

"We'll find out, Quinn. It's not something we need to have down right this minute. We're seeing each other now, so why does something nine months from now matter?"

With an obvious teasing curve of her lips, Quinn murmured, "A lot can change in nine months."

Brittany laughed explosively and was happy to see Quinn laughing in kind, the two of them leaving Santana behind in their joke. She didn't seem joyful, but pretty pissed off. Their fun died off into a quiet chuckle, then ceased into complete silence.

"What," Quinn asked seriously.

"Funny." Santana glowered.

"You're not laughing," Brittany said, trying to settle her down.

"Clearly," she retorted, scowling at the ground.

"Look, S," Quinn said, "We'll see each other when we do. There's a ton of technology that helps nowadays. Skype, cell phones, we pretty much aren't even being separated."

Santana sighed deliberately, Brittany guessed, trying to signify that she didn't want to continue the conversation, much like she hadn't before. "Time will tell," she said resolutely.

Brittany nodded apprehensively and gave Quinn a drained smile. She didn't want them to fight again, over something as simple as when they would see each other. But the more often Santana didn't want to talk about it, the more she started to think it wasn't so simple.

"Anyways," Quinn said, "I'm sure we'll still be in contact. For Brittany's sake at least."

Brittany frowned at her. "Why?" She had Santana's undivided attention also.

"Well I, for one, know that Santana can't possibly tutor you as well as I can." She stuck her tongue out at Santana and she flipped her off. "So there's always that," she finished.

Santana shook her head and jokingly muttered, "Fuck you, Fabray."

The abrupt gentle knocking and rush opening of Quinn's bedroom door caught them all off guard as Rachel entered, holding a plate of brownies. She took in the capacity of the room and gave them each a frown, settling on Quinn's shocked appearance last.

"Are you all hanging out," she asked in a small, disappointed voice. Brittany wanted to get up and hug her; mostly because then she could grab a brownie. She caught Santana licking her lips and suspected they were on a similar wavelength, minus the hugging part.

"I-I'm tutoring Brittany," Quinn clarified, pushing up to realign her legs, moving the casts the best she could. Brittany noticed that Quinn seemed immediately more on edge, more aware of her demeanor the second Rachel was in the room. Nothing had changed for the two of them.

Rachel positioned the plate in one hand and planted the other one on her hip. "Then why is Santana here?"

"Supervising," Santana elaborated swiftly. "What kind of brownies are those?"

Rachel ignored her. "Supervising what, Quinn?"

Quinn glanced around her room, looking for someone to throw her a life preserver. Brittany felt compelled to help.

"Quinn and I almost kissed the day before Valentine's Day so Santana insisted on coming to hang out for tutoring sessions."

The way Quinn, Santana, and Rachel's mouths fell open told her she might not have helped anyone. She internally scolded herself for the mistake.

"Is that the only time it's happened," Rachel asked cordially.

When no one answered, Brittany tried for redemption. "Nope. We kissed freshman year too."

"Brittany," Santana exclaimed. "Now might not be a good time to—"

Rachel's lips quirked into a smile and she stared at them. "Why not? We weren't together."

There was a collective sigh around the room and Brittany turned her scolding into a mental pat on the back. She knew she had the potential to help.

"I mean _I_ kissed Quinn freshman year," Rachel said. "You don't see me apologizing for it." They all smiled at each other, content that nothing really had changed. "Well, actually, I did kiss Brittany too so there's that."

Santana's head whipped to the side and she stared at Brittany. "What the hell, Britt?"

"Thanks a lot, Rachel," Brittany said. She groaned, turning to Santana, catching the frown on Quinn's face as she went. "It was a middle school truth or dare in eighth grade, S."

"Oh yeah," Quinn acknowledged under her breath.

"Where the hell was I," Santana demanded to know. She wasn't as seething as Brittany expected her to be.

"Sick with mono," Rachel said confidently. "That's the only reason I was allowed at the party. That and Quinn wasn't there either." The two of them shared a brief smile of contentment.

"How the hell did you know," Santana accused Quinn, glaring across the room.

Quinn bowed her head and Brittany saw her ears turn pink. "I had spies as much back then as I did freshman and sophomore year, S. Rachel was on my 'priority' list."

Brittany chuckled at seeing the delight on Rachel's face.

"So basically everyone here's kissed each other besides me and Berry and me and Quinn?" Everyone nodded and Santana rolled her eyes. "That's fucked up."

"Would it ease your discomfort if we were all," Rachel averted her eyes to conjure the appropriate word, "_experienced_ in that way with one another?"

Brittany laughed as Santana made a show of gagging. Instead of looking at Rachel, Santana turned to her. "If I ever, _ever,_ succumb to letting Berry kiss me, just take me out back and deliver a sweet bullet between my eyes." She pointed above the bridge of her nose. "Right here," she whispered conspiratorially.

Brittany nodded comfortingly. "Whatever you want, babe."

"So why wasn't I invited," Rachel asked, pulling all of Quinn's attention.

"To?"

"This," Rachel insisted, throwing her free arm around.

"It wasn't a big deal," Quinn explained. "Just tutoring. I didn't think you'd want to come…"

"Of course I'd want to come. We're all friends, right?" The shy glance Rachel delivered in Santana's direction didn't go unnoticed by Brittany.

"Christ," Santana said, ignoring Quinn's chastisement. "Will you shut up and just get in here? Maybe you'll be some fun while the wonder twins work on homework."

Brittany stood up and crossed the room, laughing. She grabbed the plate from Rachel's hands and used her opposite one to shove her further across the bedroom towards the armchair in the corner near Santana. "You're just saying that so we can have her brownies," Brittany told Santana, kicking the door shut.

"Is that a euphemism," Rachel asked worriedly.

"Not a fucking chance, Berry," Santana teased, signaling for Brittany to bring the food closer to her.

Brittany happily crossed the room, ignoring Quinn's pleasant smile and Rachel's flooding relief, to prop herself in Santana's lap and offer her a brownie. She loved being together with all of them. Quinn and Rachel might not have figured everything between them out yet, but as far as she cared, they were all friends. For the rest of her life, she would have these girls to rely on. That's what mattered to her. And all she wanted to do was spend as much time with them as possible before they wouldn't have the opportunity anymore.

Even if they wouldn't get any more studying done.

* * *

><p>Packed into the car at four in the morning, Brittany and Santana regretted making an attempt to sleep. In their foggy haze, they climbed from bed to car, from car to terminal, and from terminal to their six-fifty flight into Dallas for their first stopover. Both of them managed to sever ties with consciousness for the majority of the car ride and that flight. Their moms ushered them into their seats and then promptly allowed themselves to fall asleep right alongside their daughters.<p>

In Dallas, Texas, Santana was the first one awake on the tarmac in a panic. Flying hadn't been a particularly regular occurrence in her life, but she was also in no way a newbie. Even so, she found descent much more intimidating than take-off, and landing an excruciatingly nail-biting process. Outside the window, the first signs of sunlight rose in the sky as they fell, giving her the unmistakable feeling of sinking. She was glad Brittany had sprung for the window seat and she wasn't left to deal with the uninhibited view on her own. Flying didn't scare her, but landing did. Before she had much chance to let the decline disagree with her stomach, Brittany's eyes fluttered open hazily, and she sat forward, blocking the view.

"Hey," she said in a dazed, dreamy voice. She stared at Santana as if she hadn't seen her in ages and it made Santana's fingers tingle enough to keep her mind off the churning deep in the pit of her belly.

"Hi," Santana said, leaning up to cup Brittany's face, sealing her greeting with a warm kiss. Brittany kissed back sweetly, not yet having much control of her actions. The bare pressing of lips seemed to wake her up though, because when Santana pulled away, her blue eyes were alight with joy.

"Are we there," she promptly asked. The urgency made Santana quickly reevaluate the question.

Santana shook her head. "Dallas, babe. Then Phoenix, then Burbank."

"Burbank is in California, right," Brittany asked.

The wheels touched down and Santana's attention shot out the windows, startled because Brittany had distracted her enough to not worry about the landing. When she turned back, she saw Brittany grinning.

"What," Santana asked.

Brittany lowered her eyes coyly. "I should have kissed you last year, I guess." When Santana didn't say anything back, just as the captain made an announcement over the intercom that woke up Maria and Anna, she continued, "I watched you freak out last year on the plane and I didn't know what to do to keep your mind off the landing."

Santana remembered waking up last year the same way she had a few minutes ago; scared and alone, she stared out the window, unsure of whether or not they'd make the landing smoothly. Brittany wasn't awake, or so she suspected, and there wasn't an unkind bone in her body that would have told her to wake the girl up to keep her comfort.

"Isn't that sweet," Anna mumbled, first stirring with a grunt and then a smirk when her eyes popped open. They were a rich navy that Brittany's weren't, although similar in shape.

Santana smirked herself and titled her head to the side. "I thought we left Tony in Dayton," she said, putting a finger to her chin. "It seems his snark followed us across the country."

Brittany caught Maria's smirk, her eyes still shut tight, as her mom turned fully towards Santana. "Someone has to preserve his memory."

"I'll never escape it," Santana groaned.

"Believe me," her mom said, sitting forward for the first time, brushing out her purple blouse. "Not being a part of that family, you won't."

"I thought we were all a family," Brittany teased, winking at Santana's mom.

"Yeah," Santana agreed. "That means you don't escape it either!"

"True, sweetie, but I'm not Anthony's target," her mom said, laughing. Anna turned to her and gave her a solid high-five.

"They're all against me," Santana said to Brittany, dropping her face in her hands.

Brittany ran a hand through the waves of Santana's hair and rubbed her back across the orange-striped tanktop with false sentimentality—she was sharing a hidden smile with their mothers. "I know, baby, I'm sorry."

They found a Sbarro in the food court and each munched on a piece of pizza, even after Anna disagreed that the grease would upset her stomach. Brittany pelted her mother with pieces of crust until she gave up and crossed the tile floor to buy her own slice. After, they shuffled back into the next airplane on their way to Phoenix, for the second—and last—stop before they'd land in the Burbank airport.

Brittany and Santana were very much awake for the second third of the trip, playing cards across the small tray in front of them. It was at that time that Santana wished she could have used some of her own funds for the planning, like she had on their cruise, to secure them their own seats in first class. Coach wasn't doing much for her in the ways of comfort. Even after travelling on shoddy under-regulation type-B model airplanes with the Cheerio's, being cramped in between a guy snoring and a woman chatting to the man next to her, who they'd both decided she didn't actually know, was the worst of the worst. Brittany had to keep reminding her they only had two more hours before they'd be on the next plane, closer to no plane at all.

While Brittany reminded her of that, Santana did her part in reminding Brittany that they weren't travelling without parental supervision, like they had on the glee trip to New York (because honestly, Mr. Schuester could not even _understand_ the word supervision, let alone practice it). In simpler terms, she had to stop advances that being made underneath the wool blanket covering their short-clad legs. The excuse that they were cold had barely convinced Anna that they needed covers in the first place, but Brittany decided that trying to see how much she could get away with would be a fun way to entertain herself.

She was pretty enamored watching Santana's cheeks redden every few minutes that she swiped her fingers between her legs when the girl let down her defenses. She bit her lip just a little bit harder when Santana's eyes flitted closed, almost negating the protests whispered under her breath. It's not like her mom could tell what was happening; Brittany kept her attention into the card game and no one suspected a thing. Maria and Anna chatted about where they would go to dinner that night—agreeing on somewhere close to the hotel—completely oblivious to where her fingers were, taking a break on the waistband of Santana's shorts.

"Please," Santana whispered.

"Please what," she mumbled back, setting her cards down on her lap and pulling one from the deck.

"_Stop,_" Santana whined.

Brittany's fingers went south again, this time under the shorts to brush against lace on her path. Santana's hips bucked and she pulled her hand out of the tight material. She grabbed a card with that hand and handed it to Santana. "Do you have any sixes?"

Brittany's kiss of distraction had morphed into a full on make out session while they landed in Phoenix. Anna had to literally smack Brittany on the leg to stop them and they both turned with flushed faces, Brittany's a lot more innocent than Santana's.

"I was distracting her from the landing," Brittany effused, trying to distill any sense of modesty from her puffy lips.

Maria was giving them a death glare over Anna's shoulder. "I think you did a good job of distracting _everyone_ on the plane, Brittany," she argued.

"Pssh," Santana said, mussing her hair up, "they can't even see us."

"She didn't say _see_, Santana," Anna told her.

Instantly she flushed even pinker, remembering that she had let out a few tasteless moans. _Damn it, _she thought, suddenly embarrassed. She even thought she saw the man's eyes in front of her peeking through the divide in the seats. With a swift punch to the back of the seat, she watched him shoot up and sit stock-still in his chair.

She expected their moms to be laughing, but they actually looked more irritated than anything.

Even with the air-conditioning inside the building, the Phoenix airport still found a way of being obscenely muggy. If they weren't surrounded by a mixed group of fellow passengers, Santana and Brittany probably would have stripped right there. Even Anna protested the heat, pulling her shirt up to mid stomach. They all laughed as she let her belly hang out, shiny white skin, colorless from a lack of sun exposure. After enough teasing and a few delicate jabs from Brittany, Anna tucked her shirt back into her cargo pants.

Santana wanted to leave and find something to eat, but her mom wouldn't let her go anywhere because the next plane was already readying outside the gate. Her stomach was growling though, so she meticulously searched to find a snack machine. Even when the first class started loading on the new plane, she continued to look for anything to eat. About a hundred feet from the gate, she found Brittany with her back turned standing in front of a vending machine.

She approached quickly, casting a glance backwards to see their moms standing there, annoyed.

"What are you doing," she asked.

Brittany reached down into the bottom and pulled out a pack of cookies. She turned, giving Santana a view of the fruit snacks she held in the other hand, and gave her the cookies. "Getting you food," she proclaimed, linking her arm through Santana's and tugging her away.

Santana scratched her head. "I didn't even see you leave."

"That's because you were already gone when I left," Brittany teased, grabbing her backpack from the floor where they had been sitting.

Santana grabbed hers and laughed. "How'd you find it faster than me?"

Brittany pointed towards the wall where they just were and for the first time, Santana saw the overhead sign, with an arrow, reading 'SNACKS.'

"Wow," Santana said. She almost slapped herself in the face.

"Come on, genius," Brittany teased, leading Santana past their moms.

Santana groaned. "You sound like Quinn."

"Did she follow us too then?" Brittany asked, laughing. Santana just groaned again.

The seats on the plane to Burbank were surprisingly more comfortable than any of the ones they'd been on that day. They also were confused to see that a lot of the passengers they'd been travelling with had dispersed in Dallas and Phoenix. In addition to that, not a lot of new people had gotten _on_ in Phoenix, which left a lot of empty seats around them.

A woman behind them confronted a flight attendant about it after twenty minutes of being in the air. She wanted to know the reason for the absence of bodies, citing a possible problem with the airline for the lack of interest in travelling on the plane. The stewardess, frazzled and tired as indicated from her appearance, answered in the negative, claiming there weren't a vast amount of people travelling at that point in the season and it was common for a few of the planes to be short-numbered. Apparently accepting that answer for plausible, another passenger asked about moving seats, considering "no one new would be getting on anytime soon." The flight attendant smiled and said she'd ask the captain, forcing her way through the aisles to the front of the plane.

Anna and Maria had been listening to the conversation too, asking that if they were allowed to move, would Brittany and Santana want them to.

"Hell yes," Santana abruptly said, wanting nothing more than to be separated from her mom after sitting next to her for most of the day. Especially after Brittany's touch-teasing had started round two not five minutes before.

Brittany interjected, more nicely, "It'll be nice to get some room between us, right?"

Anna nodded and double-checked with Maria who simply agreed with a wave of her hand. "Whatever."

Ten minutes later the captain announced that due to the availability of seats, passengers were allowed to move as long as they were respectful of the other people around them. Also, much to Santana's dismay, moving between class dividers was prohibited. But still, Maria and Anna found seats across the aisle way, leaving the girls in their line of vision but a reasonable distance away to give them some space, so she couldn't complain all that much.

Santana tossed her and Brittany's bags up on the empty seats to give the two of them more leg room and settled back into her seat. Brittany cozied-up to her across the arm rest, tossing her jacket back over Santana's lap. They hadn't gotten a new blanket on the plane, considering they had been complaining about how hot they were in the Phoenix terminal, and she knew what Brittany wanted to try again.

_That wouldn't have been suspicious at all,_ Santana thought, throwing her arm into Brittany's lap to hold her hand. She knew what the point of the jacket was, but she still had a little voice in her head that said to cool it after what happened when they landed the time before that. If kissing had tossed her decency out the window, there wasn't much hope in keeping it with Brittany's fingers in her shorts.

Brittany glanced up at her in confusion when she took her hand, not understanding the hindrance. "What are you doing?"

Santana leant forward to kiss Brittany on the forehead. "Stopping us from getting in trouble."

Brittany's mouth fell into a pout. With spending all night at Quinn's to hang out the day before, they hadn't had much of an opportunity to mess around. It'd been essentially thirty-six hours of pure teasing, absolutely no pleasing. _I'm pretty sure that mantra was to stop you from having sex, not other people,_ Brittany thought, irritated. When she remembered Quinn was her friend who had just gotten into a car wreck, she quickly took her thought back.

Santana kissed her fully, lingering in the air between them afterwards. "Some time this weekend we'll sneak away."

"Promise," Brittany asked quietly, lifting her pinkie in the air. Santana took it in hers and squeezed.

"Promise," she said.

They settled into each other, content to nap for the rest of the trip. Well, Santana was content, Brittany still felt like squirming under her pressure. They'd had sex on a plane before, why couldn't they do it again?

The memory of last year popped into her head and a light bulb went off. Puck caught them last year and then they moved it to somewhere more private. That's how they did it, and if she were lucky, they'd do it again.

With Santana perched on her shoulder, she leaned down and whispered in her ear, barely letting her lips graze the shell, "Wanna go to the bathroom?"

Santana turned, brushing her nose involuntarily off Brittany's shoulder. "Britt…" She peered up into cool eyes transfixed on her mouth.

"Santana…"

Santana chuckled, hoisting herself up and off Brittany's shoulder. "You're a terrible influence."

"Is that a yes?"

Santana rolled her head to the side and glanced at Anna and Maria, who were engaged in a conversation she couldn't make out. Maria broke away for a second to smile at her and wave childishly, teasing her daughter. She rolled her eyes and glanced back to Brittany. "Sure. You go first?"

Brittany nodded excitedly and kissed Santana on the lips. "See you in five."

"See you in two," Santana said seriously.

Brittany hopped up and crossed in front of Santana, dragging their knees together as she passed. She winked as she made her way out of the row and went towards the bathroom. Santana watched her go and found Anna glancing between them with interest.

Inconspicuously, Santana rifled through one of her bags to divert attention.

Brittany was already halfway to the bathroom when her heart started beating erratically. Even though it was kind of creepy, there was a certain thrill in meeting up on the plane while their moms were within a hundred feet. She didn't want to get caught or anything, but just the thought of them being there was enough to excite her.

The first door she got to was occupied, so she slipped into the second, pulling the door shut behind her. She hoped Santana wouldn't accidentally go to the wrong one, or whoever was in that one would be gone by then; with two minutes being the time allotted between seeing each other that might not have been a possibility though.

Brittany checked her appearance in the mirror, straightening out hair that had become frizzy after pressing into a chair all day. She adjusted her tanktop, smoothing out the wrinkles, and brushed off the lint from her jean shorts. Altering her appearance was only to pass the time; she was sure clothing would be last thing on Santana's mind when she got there.

A gentle tapping on the door alerted her attention and she grinned at her reflection in the mirror, her heart beating thick in her chest. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

On the opposite side of the entrance, somehow smirking and scowling at the same time, stood her mother with crossed arms and rosy cheeks. She seemed just as embarrassed as Brittany felt.

"Not who you were expecting," Anna asked in a dry tone.

Brittany felt the color drain from her face and let out a cough. "Um…"

"Go back to your seat, sweetie," Anna told her, moving from her path. Brittany urgently went past her, face no longer colorless, but bright red and burning. A few of the other passengers glance up at her and Anna, making her even more flustered. She just wanted to sit down and pass out.

When she got back to her seat, she saw Santana had moved seats, staring out the window, fingers tapping nervously against her leg. Brittany chanced a look at Maria and found her glaringly smiling, shaking her head at the both of them. Her cheeks got somehow hotter and she dropped quickly into the seat next to Santana.

While Brittany was gone, Santana had watched Anna get up with an exhausted expression on her face. She didn't even have to wait for her mother to move across the aisle and sit down next to her before she knew they were caught.

"I understand you are eighteen years old, mija, but try to have a little modesty. Or subtlety."

Her face felt like it was on fire and she held it in her hands. "I told her we'd get caught."

Maria laughed in a bone-chillingly, non-humorous way. "You were better off under the blanket."

Santana could have puked from embarrassment. "Mama, please go away."

"I think we've reached an understanding," Maria said, the teasing back in her voice.

Santana took refuge in the blue sky outside her window, using it as a buffer from her mother's judgmental smirk. After a minute or two, she felt Brittany plop down into the seat next to her.

"Some time this weekend," Brittany asked hopefully.

Santana shook her head, still gazing out the window. "Some time this weekend."

* * *

><p>Outside of Burbank Airport, Maria talked anxiously on her cell phone to find out where their driver was. Santana had to comfort Brittany after the stepped off the plane and there wasn't anybody standing there with a sign with any of their names on it like in the movies, while Anna had to keep Maria from exploding on anyone who came within a foot of her because of how mad she had been when the car hadn't been there waiting for them. She kept growling about the price she paid in the first place, and how little he or she would receive as a tip for keeping them held up.<p>

Santana held Brittany from behind as they waited for the driver to get there and they admired their first view of the city. The rush of cars from every direction reminded them both of New York City, only the cars were moving much faster and not honking incessantly at each other. The air was cooler than they were used to, less humid than it had been in Dayton that morning when they woke up, and very dry. Brittany expected it to feel sticky because of how high the sun was above them, but she found the temperature wasn't anywhere near where she expected.

"Don't be fooled," Santana teased when she commented on it. "The one day we were here it got miserably hot after it felt like this. It screws with you almost as much as Ohio does."

"Is it gonna rain," Brittany asked. In Lima they could expect snow in the same week as eighty degree temperatures.

Anna took a break from Maria to join them. "There's not a ton of rain. This year they got a lot more than usual, but it feels like it'll be okay this weekend."

Maria added in a still agitated voice, "It will be I checked the forecast before we left."

Anna laughed. "Well there you have it. You know the forecast is _never_ wrong." The two of them exchanged a scowling match, Maria winning gloriously.

Brittany looked back out into the street and watched the people move. She didn't have much to compare it to besides what she'd seen in New York or Florida, but these people seemed pretty unaware of each other. Everyone kind of moved around in their own world or with their companions in complete indifference. They didn't look mean, but they didn't look interested. She liked that.

Twenty minutes later, their driver, a petite brunette woman by the name of Carlene, pulled to the curb in front of them. Anna, Santana, and Brittany squished into the backseat trying to ignore the sounds of Maria arguing with the woman behind the car putting their bags into the trunk. Santana was surprised by her own lack of enthusiasm to hear the conversation; she was a girl who used to love listening to Coach Sylvester tear down other girls every chance she got, but hearing her mom go off on some insubordinate woman didn't give her a thrill anymore. She actually felt a little guilty.

A half hour later, they were in front of the Loews Hollywood Hotel, a former resort and spa. They all grabbed their bags from the back of the car and stood in front, admiring the grand stature of the building. Brittany became very excited when she saw the pool off the side of the building, nudging Santana and pointing rapidly.

They started their trek inside and were amazed by the inside of the hotel. Bright colors assaulted them from every direction, a giant mosaic of oval designs crafted together to form one gigantic piece of art across the wall above the check-in desks. The lobby had areas set up with funky couches, chairs, and plants spread out across the sleek white surface of the floor and around a square column as they walked towards the front desk, they noticed a large painting of Marilyn Monroe overlooking the rest of the entrance. Santana and Brittany were in awe of their surroundings, pleased that they weren't in some grimy, dimly-lit motel somewhere.

Maria stepped up to the desk and presented her credit card to the attendant standing there. "Hello, we're checking in."

"Alright, and the name on the reservation is," the guy, bright-eyed and young, asked her with a perfect smile.

"Pierce/Lopez," Maria told him, smiling. It was a stark contrast to how she had treated the woman driving them there, Brittany noticed.

He typed their name into the computer and then nodded towards the screen. "Alright, you have one Superior Room with two double-beds, one bathroom. Is that right?"

"Sounds about," Anna joked, provoking a laugh from their attendant.

"Wonderful." He reached below his waist and pulled out two keycards, handing them both to Maria. "These are your keys, both have been pre-activated and should work with a simple swipe through. If you have any trouble, just bring them back down here to me and we'll get it sorted out. You're room is on the sixth floor; just go up these stairs to your left," he pointed past them, "and take any of the elevators. Your room is two sixty-eight, about halfway down the hallway. Any questions?"

Santana chuckled when she saw Brittany shake her head along with Maria and Anna. She linked their arms and tugged Brittany backwards, kissing her on the cheek. "Dork," she mumbled.

"Alright," he said. "Oh, also, my name is Dwight. If you need help with absolutely anything, call down to the front office and ask for me." He smiled. "Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," they all muttered in one way or another, readjusting their bags as they moved towards the steps.

They made their way into the elevator and quickly were transported up to the sixth floor without having to stop for any other people to get on. The doors opened up into a long yellow hallway with a thirty or so doors split from one direction to the other. Each had a pair across the hallway, two doors for every twenty feet. Each door had a similar color, almost aquamarine, that caught Brittany's eye. If she ever had the opportunity to paint another bedroom in her life, she decided it would be that color.

Santana thought the hallway looked like a beach, only brighter and more offensive to the eye. She hope their room wasn't those colors, and was rewarded when room two sixty-eight opened up to reveal an amber color scheme. The carpet was a similar blue to door, but the rest of the room was very calm and normal. The two beds were both simple, white blankets and tan pillowcases. She ended her examination by falling face forward into the first bed.

Into the mattress, she demanded, "Dibs!"

She heard Brittany's laughter and then a depression into the bed next to her. "Ugh, it's so comfy."

Santana propped her head up on her hand and watched her mom and Anna fall on the other bed more cordially than the two of them did, both shutting their eyes into the comfort of their mattress.

With her eyes still shut, Maria asked in a dreamy voice, "I'd like to take a nap for an hour or two and then we can go eat. Is that fine with the rest of you?"

There was a chorus of agreement and then Brittany asked, "Where are we eating?"

Anna mumbled, seemingly almost asleep, "Whatever's close…"

Brittany nodded, finding Santana's head had fallen back on the bed, her eyes drifting shut. "Do you want to nap and then go explore the hotel?"

"Mhm," Santana said, pulling herself farther up on the pillow. "Sleep first?"

Brittany giggled. "Sure."

The two of them made themselves comfortable on top of the covers and Brittany cuddled Santana from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist. She rested her nose in wavy locks of dark hair and kissed her gently on the neck inaudibly to save them from more parental grief.

Brittany was content to fall asleep for as long as Santana wanted. She was simply happy to have finally made it there, and to be there with her girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Around five o' clock, Brittany woke up to her mom moving around the room in a flurry. Her hair was freshly blown-dry and her makeup almost finished. She rolled away from Santana's warm back where she had stayed for the entirety of the nap and got up into a seated position.<p>

Anna noticed her stretching and gave her a quick smile while she applied mascara. "Hey, sweetie. Sleep well?"

"Mm, yeah," Brittany said, scratching at her eyes. "Where's Santana's mom?"

"Bathroom. Getting ready. We were about to wake the two of you up."

"Oh," Brittany said. It didn't seem like they'd have time to search the hotel, but she wasn't worried. They had plenty of time that weekend to look around.

"Wake Santana up, we're leaving in a little bit."

Brittany bit her lip in thought and nodded absently. She wondered how much time they'd have to spend together tomorrow. Their afternoons were pretty much booked solid with her audition and Santana's tour. She knew they'd spend dinner together, but a whole day apart didn't sound fun.

"Brittany."

Brittany glanced up and came out of her haze. "Yeah, sorry." She flipped around on the bed to her stomach and scooted closer to Santana. With two fingers, she poked Santana hard in the side and woke her up. "Babe, get up. We're going to dinner."

Santana yawned as she rolled over on her back. "Lovely way to wake up," she said sarcastically.

She didn't seem tired so Brittany frowned at her. "Have you been awake?"

"Just for a few minutes."

"How many?"

"Thirty," Santana said with a teasing grin.

Brittany gasped and slapped her arm. "Why didn't you get up, lazy? We could have gone for a walk or something!"

Santana dug her head backwards into the bed, closing her eyes. "I was _so_ comfortable."

Ignoring the '_aw'_ she heard from her mom, Brittany slapped Santana again. "Ow, abuse," Santana complained.

Brittany shoved her. "I'll show you abuse."

Maria's voice cut them off as she exited the bathroom, toiletry bag tight in her grip, "Show her abuse later, I'm hungry."

"Ditto," Anna said, finishing up her makeup.

Santana and Brittany climbed out of bed, finding their bags and picking outfits for dinner. They didn't know where they were going, so casual versus formal was a bit of a struggle. Gauging from their parent's attire, they assumed casual—Brittany grabbed a green halter-top dress and flip-flops, Santana chose jean shorts and a white, sleeveless blouse—and Brittany set off to change first in the bathroom.

"So did you see where we could go?" she asked Anna and Maria.

They both shrugged and turned to each other. "What's in walking distance," Anna stated. Maria agreed with a determined nod and packed her suitcase back up, shuffling it to the corner.

"That sounds promising," Santana muttered under breath.

xx

"Hooters," Santana exclaimed, turning to her mother, who had gone quiet within the last five minutes. "This is the closest thing to the hotel? Really? _Really?_"

"Is the food bad here or something," Brittany asked obliviously. Santana didn't know whether she was messing with them or if she really didn't know. Sometimes she made it really hard to tell.

"No, the food is quite good most of the time," Anna said in a timid voice.

"Yup, the food. That's what we're all concerned about."

"Santana, enough," Maria silenced her daughter with a cold frown. "Modesty, remember?"

"I don' think it's my modesty we have to be worried about…"

At that moment, a girl that had to be in her early-twenties walked in front of them with menus in her hand. "Welcome to Hooters, my name is Lisa. Table for four?"

"Do you have booths," Brittany asked with a dazed smile. Santana had to nudge her to stop her from staring. "Sorry," she whispered.

Lisa laughed and encouraged them to follow her. "Right this way." She led them through the room filled with people watching sports on the many TVs or watching the girls run around in their tiny shorts and tight t-shirts. Brittany noticed that there were a lot more couples than she expected to find in a restaurant with that kind of notoriety. She couldn't help but acknowledge if she and Santana had a date there she might have ended up fairly distracted.

In a populated area of the restaurant, Lisa sat them down in a booth where she and Santana took up one seat and Anna and Maria grabbed the other. Lisa deposited their menus and made sure they were comfortable, before saying, "Jenny will be right over to take your drink order. Enjoy your meal!"

"Thank you," Brittany said, a little too eagerly. Santana seriously considered slinging an arm around her shoulder simply to cover her mouth.

"Flirt with the waitresses some more and I'll develop a complex," she muttered, flipping open the menu.

"Aw, I'd never cheat on you with a waitress, or anyone," Brittany said, kissing her on the cheek. She dropped a hand to her leg and drew comforting circles around her skin, relaxing her by the second.

"So are you two excited about tomorrow," Anna asked, scanning her menu.

"Very," Brittany said, beaming.

"Did you finally perfect your audition routine," Maria asked. They'd all heard daily updates on the progress of her routine, an almost step by step description of what she'd tweaked or finally perfected. Santana had watched her and Rachel choreograph almost every step and was proud to see the final product. It was magnificent, as was Brittany's dancing always.

"Yup, Rachel and I went over it one more time at Quinn's last night."

"How is Quinn?"

Santana played with her hands in her lap. "She's good. The casts come off in three weeks and then she has rehab, but her shoulders pretty much healed."

"And they gave her some cream or something that completely got rid of the scar on her forehead. There's just a very light imprint now," Brittany added.

"That's wonderful. I was really worried about that girl," Anna said.

"We all were," Brittany said sadly. "That was so scary."

Maria shook her head. "When I got that call I was so scared. I thought the worst."

"Stop," Santana said. "She's alive; I don't want to talk about if she wasn't."

There was a thick tension at the table and Brittany squeezed her thigh. She understood the worry in Santana's outburst because she'd finally put it behind her two weeks later. Santana didn't seem to have managed that yet.

Another girl came up to their table and announced herself as Jenny, their waitress. They all ordered drinks and since they had enough time to browse the menu before she showed up, put in their dinner orders as well. The selection was interesting, a combo of wings and burgers, but they all found something that sounded well enough for their first meal. After a little while, their food arrived and they all settle into eating and talking about the next day.

When the discussion about dorms came up, Anna asked them, "There aren't any commuter dorms for the schools because they're so close, right? It won't be fun to not live with each other when you're so close." She glanced at Maria and they smiled at each other.

"Way to rub it in," Santana said, staring into her food. Brittany guessed Santana didn't notice the way they had just looked at each other and brushed it off.

"It's better than me being in Lima and her being here," she added as an afterthought.

"That wouldn't have ever been the case," Santana said. "It won't be even if this doesn't happen. We'll figure it—sorry…"

Brittany laughed and speared a tomato off of Santana's chicken salad. "I know what you mean."

"I'm glad the two of you are so optimistic," Anna said, a little sadly. They didn't have a hard time understanding why.

"We were talking and we want you two to understand something, regardless of whatever happens between you." They both perked up as Maria set down her drink and started what looked like an unexpected speech. "The two of you have grown up so quickly from those two little girls who we forced into having a play-date at the park."

"Or the girls who got sent home from the Fabray's for rearranging their refrigerator trying to find more food," Anna added with a smirk.

"We're incredibly proud of you, in light of recent events and with what happened back in November and the commercial, we are just so amazed at the strength the two of you have shown. And we wanted to tell you, that no matter what any of the counselors tell you tomorrow, we know you girls will pull through and end up together. Because we want you to be happy for as long as you want to be with one another. And we'll support whatever decision you make."

There was a long silence in which Brittany and Anna wiped away cascading tears. Santana bit her lip to stifle the emotions and shook her head at her mom. "You're so lame."

"Only because I love you. _Both_ of you."

"Thank you guys," Brittany said, beaming at their moms.

All of a sudden, Jenny was back to check up on them. "How is everything?

Brittany's attention was turned and she beamed at their waitress. "Wonderful."

Jenny left and Santana gave Brittany a fake-glare. "Way to ruin the mood, perv."

Anna and Maria were both smiling at each other and Santana gave Brittany's hand on her leg a squeeze. It was weird for her to think that here is where her life ended up, with Brittany in California getting ready to explore their futures, their moms on the opposite side of the table telling them how proud and supportive they were of her relationship. Telling them something like that was dumb to do on a Friday night while they were on vacation; she just wanted her food, not a sappy inspirational pep talk. But that didn't mean it went unappreciated.

On the walk back to the hotel, Brittany and Santana held each other very close as they stayed a few feet behind Maria and Anna. Their inner arms were wrapped around each other, their fingers laced together tight. Santana had her head on Brittany's shoulder, hindering their steps in just the slightest bit.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow," she asked into the air in front of them. The night street was lit up with lights and cars galore. Nightlife seemed inspiring and she couldn't help but fret for the time when she'd be able to live it all to the limits.

"Not really," Brittany murmured quietly. "About the dancing at least. My mom said we have to talk to an admissions counselor about my grades. That freaks me out a little bit."

"You don't have to worry about that," Santana said. "Just tell them the truth about all of the hard work you've been putting into raising all of those grades this year. Let them know you're serious about being there and you're doing whatever it takes. Just don't make excuses and piss them off, you know?"

Brittany nuzzled Santana's head and kissed her temple. "You're so much smarter than me."

"We both know I have a tendency to act like an idiot sometimes," Santana teased truthfully.

"That's true…"

"Hey!" Santana tugged away from her.

"You said it," Brittany exclaimed, pulling Santana close again. "I'm just agreeing."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Are you nervous?"

Santana shrugged into her, "Not really. Their website said I don't have to meet with anybody really. It's more of a self-guided tour. We just check in and then wander."

"That sounds awesome!"

Santana chuckled. "I'm sure it will be."

"I wish we could do it all together," Brittany said, remembering her longing from earlier that day.

"Me too," Santana said. "I wanna see your school."

"I just want to spend the day with you," Brittany admitted, kissing Santana's head again.

"We have all of Sunday to hang out, my mom said we're probably gonna visit the beach too. You're gonna love it there."

"Is it better than the beaches in Florida?"

"Much better," Santana told her, even though she had exactly one memory of their trip to Florida and it hadn't been pleasant. More along the lines of admiring Brittany in her bathing suit and then beating herself up about it for the rest of the trip.

"Good."

"It'll be great. I'm so happy we're here this weekend."

"Pretty soon we'll spend every weekend here," Brittany effused, giddily increasing her pace.

"And every weekday, and a bunch of holidays, and it's going to be so fun," Santana said, trying to keep up with Brittany. Her shorter legs weren't much of an advantage.

"Will you two hurry up," Anna called back. "I don't want to have to explain to your fathers about why we're coming back with no kids on Monday."

"Oh," Santana said, "you can totally leave us here. We don't mind."

Maria laughed back at them. "Sure. And then I'll cancel all your credit cards and we'll have the both of you emancipated."

"Sounds fun," Brittany said with a smirk than Maria stuck her tongue out at.

"C'mon, dorks," Anna said, pointing across the street to the hotel.

Santana went back up to Brittany's side and hooked an arm around her waist. "Looks like you'll be my only family now."

"I don't mind that," Brittany said.

"Me either," Santana agreed. She leant in to kiss Brittany, taking one lip in between both of hers and gently holding her waist. They stood there for a long minute, tasting only each other in the cool breeze of the city and calmly pulled apart. It was the perfect first night to their trip, and they both knew it would only get better.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading. Part two coming soon. **


	55. you gave me the world

**A/N: Oh god this was supposed to be like 4000 words but it's like 8. I hope you people appreciate what I do for you! just kidding. But thanks for all the responses last chapter, and here is an actual timely continuation of the last chapter.  
><strong>

**********As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites!******** I hope everyone's still enjoying it :)**

* * *

><p>The next morning, Brittany rolled off the bed to an abrupt wake. Everyone jolted up at the sound as she simply lay there, too embarrassed and tired to move. She didn't want to wake up; that meant the day would start and she had to leave Santana for seven hours of discovering her new life. A small part of her was excited because she had an audition and a chance to prove that she belonged at the school, but she also knew that she'd have to face her academics and them telling her why she <em>didn't<em> belong there. That felt like a self-imposed torture.

"Britt?"

Santana's voice came over the top of the bed as her head appeared, surrounded by a few streams of light that had made it through the curtains Anna strung shut the night before. She laughed quietly and leaned down, leaving her face perched mere inches from Brittany's, dark hair cascading down around them.

"Are you awake," Santana asked, joke clearly evident in her tone.

Brittany stretched up on the palms of her hands to kiss Santana lightly on the lips. She hummed in appreciation of the plush skin encasing her bottom lip, pulling it like a gentle introduction into awareness. She didn't have another chance to fall back asleep with Santana's mouth on hers and the way it sparked warmth into her limbs, increasing her heart's beat.

Her body came back to a rest on the floor and Santana's followed her, leaning further down to keep connected. With her free hands, Brittany grabbed Santana by the waist and dragged her down to the floor, gentle enough for her to anticipate and provide support. They didn't need to rouse their moms earlier than they needed to; even if her fall had already done that.

Santana's knees were outside either of her calves and her hands fell against each shoulder, gripping them softly. Brittany titled her head, letting Santana add more pressure against her lips. She couldn't remember if she woke up wanting a quick make-out session or if it just happened. Her hips shifted and she felt residual pain shoot through her leg; _Oh yeah_, she thought, remembering the fall she'd taken out of bed.

Suddenly, the room brightened as the curtains were thrown open, startling them both into submission. Santana peered down at Brittany with a devilish smirk, pecking her nose and sitting up on her thighs to see the progress Anna and Maria had made. Brittany squirmed underneath her but she let a few rogue tickles capture her sides until she stayed still. The thrill of hiding without having to be hiding made her smile. They were acting like kids and she could tell Brittany enjoyed that.

Her mom was still in bed with an arm slung over her eyes and Anna was gazing outside the window. Santana turned to check the alarm clock on their nightstand and read _7:39_ as the time. She and her mom needed to be at the Musician's Institute by ten and Brittany had her audition at nine fifteen. Brittany really couldn't have picked a better opportunity to roll off the bed.

"You work better than an alarm clock," Santana said, changing position and letting Brittany up.

Brittany popped up in front of her and grabbed onto her hips with both hands. "I'll wake you up forever."

"Not too early though, right?"

Her head shook back and forth eagerly. "Of course not. Then I don't get to snuggle."

Santana kissed her on the forehead with a loud smacking noise. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Anna prodding her mom in the arm.

"Mare," she mumbled. "Get up."

Maria swatted at her. "I don't have to get up. You guys have to shower first anyway."

Anna glanced over at the girls and smirked, poking Maria again. "Let's go."

"Touch me again and I'll drop you."

"Mama!" Santana bellowed across the room, stifling her laughter.

Anna chuckled and simply shoved her again. "Ever the morning person…"

Before Santana and Brittany could even finish laughing, Maria shot straight forward in bed and groaned irritably. Brittany didn't have to wonder where Santana got her sleeping habits from. She remembered staying in the hotel with them when the Lopez's took her with them to New York; Victor had to shake her on multiple occasions to remind her that daylight meant it was time to get up. She'd periodically done the same thing with Santana since they were little kids and she had to smile at how her mom dealt with Maria in the exact same way she did.

"What am I," she growled, "supposed to do, while you are showering Anna? Twiddle my thumbs and pray for world peace?"

Anna put the flat of her palms on her hips. "That isn't very Catholic of you."

"If it's not Sunday, I'm not religious," Maria spouted out angrily, a lilt of sarcasm in her voice.

"Oh, I'm telling Father Schulte you said that when we get back," Anna teased. She turned away to gather clothes from her bag and went towards the bathroom.

Brittany watched her mom go and then laughed, falling backwards onto the ground. Santana followed her onto the floor and lay down beside her. Their arms and legs were touching as the both stared soundlessly into the speckled ceiling, both contemplating their days.

Brittany seamlessly broke into their daydream, asking, "Do you think we'll act like that when we're older?"

Santana huffed, not wanting to be reminded that their moms had a relationship, because even if that wasn't what Brittany directly asked, she had to then wonder what they _would_ be like if a relationship had still been the case.

"Probably exactly the same," she grumbled, rolling her eyes over to Brittany. When they locked onto each others gaze, she smiled. "Except we get to make-out afterwards."

* * *

><p>"It's cookies and ice cream!"<p>

Santana and Maria were halfway through their walk to the school when she stopped in her tracks coming up on a truck with _Chunk-n-Chip_ written across the side. They were far from being late—it was only nine o' clock—and if she was presented with the opportunity to enjoy cookies _and_ ice cream, she wouldn't pass it up.

"Santana, no," her mom said, checking her watch for at least the eighth time while they were walking. For someone who insisted to keep their eyes up at all times on a busy sidewalk, she didn't do much of it herself.

"Please…"

Maria grunted. "It's nine in the morning."

"Please." Her face was stoic, devised, and determined.

"You're acting like a child."

She paused and sighed dramatically. Her eyes scanned the sidewalk and she pouted at a guy who walked past her with an ice cream sandwich, two cookies as the bun. If she hadn't been 'in the moment' her mouth probably would have been watering.

"Please."

Maria rolled her eyes in Lopez fashion and pulled her purse around in front of her. "Fine."

Santana fist pumped and the bracelet Brittany asked her to wear fell around her elbow. It was a weird insistence, but if she could give her girlfriend something to put her mind at ease while they spent the day apart, she'd do it no questions asked.

They both scoured the menu—essentially the side of a truck—and ordered their food. Santana stuck with the 'Old-School', which was just vanilla ice cream between two chocolate chips, and Maria had the 'Goober-Doober' which was Neapolitan between chocolate and sugar cookies. For the last few blocks to the school, they were silent and entertained themselves with the desserts.

The Musicians Institute, a three-story, grey building with a giant _MI_ logo marking the center of the top floor, sat in between a café and a sports bar. It didn't look much like a school, but that alone made it appeal more to Santana. She couldn't imagine waking up every day and going there, calling it college. But she had seen pictures and testimonials that raved about the faculty and facilities; appearances didn't deter her so easily.

"Not what you were expecting," Maria asked, in a weird strain of voice.

Santana shrugged. "When something in my life happens that I expect, you'll be the first to know."

She glanced at her mother and lifted her lips into a smile that Maria returned suitably. They both finished off their ice cream and tossed the trash into a garbage can outside the café next door. The front gate of the school was open with a large inviting sign that said _Visitors Welcome_ and they continued inside, following signs to the administrative offices. There was already a scattering of other kids walking around either by themselves, in pairs, or with parents. Santana tried to scope some of them out as they walked into the office to figure out if any of them seemed around her age and would make suitable friends.

Inside the central office, a large open lobby with three sets of desks all interlinked across the center of the room, they were directed around by intended major. At the far end, Santana saw a spindly haired woman crossing off something on a clipboard in front of the Independent Artist banner tacked above the desk. The color scheme seemed to be red and black, very similar to the McKinley theme. She internally groaned at having to be stuck with the same colors for the rest of her life but then remembered as a non-formal institution, they wouldn't have organized sports or mascots to cheer for.

Maria approached the desk and smiled warmly at the attendant. "Hello. We're checking in for Santana Lopez."

The woman, wearing a nametag that read _Sarah_, glanced up at the two of them and then sorted through papers on her desk.

"I assume you've read over our campus tour procedure." Sarah handed Santana a map and pointed to a big arrow that showed where they were. "If you enter a classroom, remain in the back and keep quiet. All of the teachers and students are aware of visitor days, so they will have no problem entertaining non-interruptive guests. You are allowed in any building with regular classroom facilities, including the lunch room and gym."

"Wait, _gym_?" Santana asked. Why did a school full of musicians need a gym?

"Correct. We employ a physical trainer who teaches a few health classes including weight training and nutrition to students who are in need of or desire a regulated diet."

She snickered at that term. There wouldn't be a chance in hell that she'd need someone else to regulate _her_ food intake or exercise schedule. Coach Sylvester had pretty much ruined their chances of thriving under any less intensive workout routines either way.

"Ms. Washington also teaches an introductory jazz history class and is an admissions counselor. You'll come to find that a lot of the faculty here are immensely well-rounded individuals who will try to encourage you to develop in the same way." Sarah smiled and stamped a form on the desk in front of her. She handed an orange folder to Maria and pointed across the room to another exit. "I hope you enjoy yourselves and we'll be seeing you in the fall."

Maria and Santana both nodded to the woman and took their time leaving the room to check out some of their other services the offices provided. Santana wanted to learn where she'd need to go in any circumstance and she noted the financial office, the administration hallway, and the counselors. She tried to memorize all of their locations so when she got there in five months, she'd know it already.

"Ready to go, mija?" Her mom led her through the doors and into the courtyard-esque walkway to start their exploration.

xx

Meanwhile, Brittany was sitting with Anna, warming down from her audition. She'd done phenomenally, better than she'd done practicing with Rachel and Santana just two nights before hand. The instructor seemed impressed as well, giving her an encouraging smile and pat on the back. The rest of the girls waiting complemented her as they left the room and she felt inspired that they weren't putting her down or treating her like crap for being good. She hoped for that kind of reception if she was lucky enough to be admitted in the long run. Santana would be there to support her every step of the way, but she need classmates who would do the same and she felt like _there_ she could get that.

Anna had her hands on Brittany's shoulders, massaging the skin effectively. Her mom used to do that for every one of her dance solos in recitals over the years and she hadn't ever stopped appreciated them. It was just that when she got older, Anna understood when to back off and leave her be. But _that_ massage wasn't to help her from what she had just done, but for what she was about to do.

"Don't be nervous," Anna told her softly.

"Already am…"

They were sitting in the waiting room of an admissions counselor's office, a room with stark white walls and forest green carpeting. Brittany sat on the floor in front of her mom's chair, letting her try to work on a particularly tight knot in her shoulder blade; one that hadn't appeared until they left the studio and entered the offices. Her mind kept processing the hundreds of things they could possibly say that would keep her out of the school.

"Brittany Pierce?"

A man with dark skin and dark hair snagged their attention from the door Brittany's been staring at for the last ten minutes. He managed to open the door and sneak out without her noticing and she groaned at her own lack of concentration. "I'm Evan Smithson, your admissions counselor." He was grinning with white, pearly teeth on full display and Brittany felt that had to be a good omen. If she were about to receive a rejection, she figured he would have the decency to at least look glum about it.

"Yeah," she said, standing up. Her legs bent weird and she almost plummeted backwards into Anna, but she caught herself on the arm of the chair. Mr. Smithson laughed and Brittany could feel her face getting hot. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. From what Wendy told me, you're incredibly graceful and strong on your feet. I guess I can't hold what happens when you're _off_ your feet against you." Evan winked and she chuckled at his attempt to make her feel better. "Shall we have at it then?" His arm extended into his office and directed Brittany and Anna inside.

Once inside, they both sat down in plush chairs that were significantly more comfortable than the chairs (and floor) they'd sat on out in the waiting room. Brittany rocked from side to side in enjoyment at the tiny bounce in the seat until Anna glanced at her seriously and she straightened up. That's when she remembered that the outcome of the conversation she was about to have would decide the next four years of her life.

Mr. Smithson took a seat around the desk and shuffled through papers on his desk. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and had a curly scruff on his cheeks. Brittany didn't think if she saw him somewhere on the street she could guess he was part of a college faculty. That alone gave her a sense of the place where she'd be going to school and she expected a lot more of the unexpected to hit her once she actually went there. And that excited her more than it scared her.

"So, Brittany. You're a senior in," he checked his papers, "Lima, Ohio. Tell me what kind of things you are involved in."

Brittany smiled as warm as she could. "We'll I've been a cheerleader all four years of high school, except for a tiny bit of junior year when we had to quit for a couple months because of Coach Sylvester's problem with the glee club. I really didn't want to but my friends were all saying glee club was more important and I kind of agreed with them, so we quit."

Anna cleared her throat and it distracted her for a second. She glanced up and saw that he wasn't bored by her ramblings, but instead was staring at her in wonderment. "Also, I'm in glee club. I'm one of the more featured dancers. I've been dancing since I was five, in lots of studios and stuff. I've been in a bunch of competitions and oh," she grinned, "I ride motocross. Not much lately, but I am pretty good at it." She tugged at the bottom of her loose ponytail shyly, wondering if that was the kind of answer he wanted, or if she had just wasted three minutes of his time.

"Versatile," he commented, writing something down on a notepad in front of him. "That's a remarkable quality. A lot of people get so locked down into whatever they practice, they forget that there's a whole other world out there." Mr. Smithson looked up at her. "So you sing?"

Brittany smirked at the ground and shook her head delicately. "Not well. Backup more than anything."

"Would you like to sing well?"

"Singing is more of a hobby. Dancing is more my thing."

"So I've heard."

Brittany glanced at her mom and smiled, garnering one in return. She could tell her mom was trying to stay quiet and keep her questions silent until the proper time, and wordlessly thanked her for that. The audition she knew she could do on her own, but she wanted to try and do the meeting on her own as well.

Mr. Smithson cleared his throat and scattered some more papers across his desk. It reminded Brittany of Santana's desk at home with the clutter. He had about as much organization as Santana and that made her laugh inwardly.

"Generally, an audition and a meeting with the instructor is the regular process for admissions into the academy, Brittany, but yours is a special case as I've been told. There is the matter of your academics that can be a hindrance in your acceptance. I was also told you're aware of this, correct?"

Brittany tried not to groan. "I am."

He turned to Maria. "And you are as well?"

"Yes," she answered formally.

"Looking over a graph that was attached to your student file," he pulled one paper to the top, "sent as 'additive-material' from Sue Sylvester, I see your grades have been improving."

Brittany furrowed her brow in confusion. Had Coach Sue intercepted her school records and sent something to give her interview a boost? It seemed plausible when she recalled her coach saying that loyal Cheerio's would always be rewarded. She just assumed that meant only while they were _still_ Cheerio's.

"Did you ask Sue to send that," Anna asked Brittany.

"No," she answered honestly. She wouldn't even think to ask for that kind of information, let alone request someone send it for her.

"She must have a special interest in you," Mr. Smithson said. "We see that kind of thing all the time. Certain instructors like to provide backup for their most promising students. In any case, the information is pretty valuable to us here. What steps have you been taking to improve her grades?"

His question was directed at Anna more than Brittany and she put her hands up in surrender. "I had nothing to do with it. When she realized her grades were troubling, she started getting help on her own."

Mr. Smithson glanced back at her. "Would you mind me asking where you got this kind of help? I'm just impressed that you've raised a grade point average that was in the ones to almost a two point seven."

"My friends have just been helping me study," she told him. "My one friend is second in our class, and she helps me the most. I didn't know there's been that much of a change."

"Well that sounds like that'd do it pretty easily," he commented, fumbling with the graph again. "However, there still is the matter of your average not meeting our required standard."

"Which is," Anna asked.

"A three point o'."

There had to be a chance to make up that point four difference and Brittany knew what it was. The damn thing she'd been struggling with most of all. The one class that no matter how hard she studied, or how much she understood, she couldn't test well on. Quinn could make a thousand practice tests and Santana could give her a million good job kisses but that didn't make her do better. _She_ had to do better.

"It's my math grade," Brittany told the both of them. "Does that chart show that grade by itself?"

Mr. Smithson nodded and held it up for them to see. There were six lines, five of which had a steady increase. The sixth did increase, but at about the third of the rate the others were inclining.

"If I got that grade up, how much of a difference would it make?"

He set the paper down and opened the laptop on his desk. They all sat there for a few minutes as he typed through screens and waited for things to load on the computer. She figured he was trying to pull up some program that would tell him the answer to her question and she reminded herself to keep calm. If he could tell her that there was a chance, she would make it happen. No matter what. The interview was making her realize how badly she wanted to end up at that school, in California, pursuing her dream.

His face changed expressions drastically and all of her enthusiasm drained as he glanced first at the desk and then back at her. "Brittany, based on the systematic change of your math grade over the course of the year, it's not a likely accomplishment."

That seemed to fire Anna up. "What grade would she have to make?"

"At least a high C. But that's only if another grade goes up as well."

What could she also try harder in? She knew there was a huge history project coming up that was worth a ton of points if she remembered correctly. If she could get a good enough grade on that, maybe she could raise her C in that class to a B.

"What about my history class?"

He typed more into the computer and bit the inside of his cheek as he studied whatever statistics he was looking at. "If you can get that grade to go up one letter and raise your math grade, I believe that will put you just over a three."

Brittany's mouth curved into a smile; maybe in a little too much of a hurry from the look on Mr. Smithson's face.

"You know this isn't an easy thing to do in just two months time, Brittany, right? You'd have to pretty much ace all of your quizzes in both classes and not get less than a B minus on every test."

"I think I can do it," she said.

Mr. Smithson studied her, for a long couple minutes. They all kind of sat there in the wake of her admission and heard how true the words were. Brittany felt that if she really wanted it to happen, _really wanted it_, she could have it.

"I want you to," he finally said. "I think you'd be a wonderful fit here. This tenacity isn't something you see every day and I would feel grateful to work with you on a daily basis."

"Thank you," Anna said with a smile on her face. Brittany could tell how pleased she was with how the conversation had gone and she grinned at Mr. Smithson.

"Thanks," she told him, extending her hand for him to shake—something Sue had taught them all at a random morning Cheerio's excursion in the woods behind the school. She wanted to remember to thank her coach for sending that piece of paper, the one that had basically given her an opportunity.

He stood up with them and escorted them to the door. "Good luck, Ms. Pierce. I hope to see you in the fall."

Brittany smiled from her mother back to Mr. Smithson and felt like she had actually accomplished something good.

"Yeah, me too."

xx

Santana was in absolute love with the campus. She and her mom investigated every inch of the school for an hour before they took a half hour break to eat in the cafeteria. The food choice was absolutely incredible and for her that was a big make-or-break detail. Another pair of mother and daughter had accompanied them for a large chunk of their tour and Santana had even struck up good conversation the girl who was a piano player. They had exchanged numbers and expressed interest in meeting up when they both got there in the fall. And Santana hadn't actually faked her excitement with the girl; she actually thought she would make a decent friend.

But as much fun as she was having, she had concern about Brittany's interview in the back of her mind. She hated the idea of having a wonderful day of her own when she could meet up with Brittany later and find out her dreams had been crushed. Maria had caught her sulking a few times and simply threw an arm around her shoulder and tried to perk her up.

Most of the time it worked, but not the last time when she had been peering into the booth of a recording studio, hearing a dance beat that reminded her of Brittany's audition song. The guy in the recording space looked a little older than her and was playing an electric drum set. There were three girls in the booth mixing on a board that vastly emaciated the one Rachel had set up in her basement.

Maria had said she need to pee and left Santana to stare after the production process with observant eyes, wondering if Brittany had mastered the final turn in her routine that had been giving her trouble. She put a hand on the glass and tapped her fingernails along to the beat gently, trying not to disturb anyone inside. She couldn't help her instinctual rhythm to hum along either.

"Ex-boyfriend?" A voice behind her asked.

Santana spun on her heels and saw a tall, dark-skinned woman with cropped, light-brown hair. Her stature almost reminded Santana of a certain Sue Sylvester persona. Although, the woman wasn't wearing a full track suit, but rather a navy, cotton track-jacket, and candy-red jogging shorts. Santana didn't feel intimidated by her, but actually felt a little more at home with her athletic appearance.

"God, no."

The lady studied her for a second and then peeked around her into the booth. "Ex-girlfriend then?"

Santana blanched, a little perturbed that someone could immediately pick up on that distinction from her infliction when she said 'no.'

She laughed breathlessly. "No."

"Damn," the woman said with a smile. "I'm usually pretty good at this kind of thing."

Santana smirked at her and extended a hand in Sylvester-fashion. "I'm a new student. Santana Lopez."

The woman smiled and took her hand in a firm grip, shaking it twice. "Roz Washington. I'm an admissions counselor for letters L-through-R."

Santana shook her head at the coincidence. "That means you had me."

"It would seem that way wouldn't it," Roz said, smirking. She had a cheeky confidence that Santana respected. That was her kind of people; the ones who knew how good they were and didn't need to prove it with anything other than the way they held themselves. "Lopez. Lopez. I feel like I remember your name."

"I was a—"

"You're an independent artist major. You submitted that song. _'Who I Wanna Be,'_ right?"

Santana blushed at being remembered by her song, and a little at the title being said in conversation. "Yup."

Roz studied her again, a little mockingly. "Sweetie, why are you embarrassed? We passed that song around the office for a week, trying to find something we didn't like. Everyone loved it."

Her heart thrummed with that knowledge. Those weren't just her friends' and family's opinion on a song she had produced in the basement of someone's house; they were real opinions from qualified individuals who not only thought it was acceptable, they actually _liked_ it.

"Yeah?" she asked nervously.

"Oh yeah, hun. We all finally decided the background vocals were a little too echo-ey and the lyrics were a tiny bit forced in a few places, but otherwise we thought it was without a doubt the best one we'd got this year. And trust me, we had some stinkers. There was one called _'Put My Love In You,_' and let me tell you," she shook her head back and forth, "we thought the name was bad enough. Then we realized it was a rap."

Santana laughed outright and put a hand on her side to quell the ache that grew after sharing a laugh with Roz. "Oh wow, that sounds horrible."

"It sucked," Roz said. "Luckily we had a few other ones to make up for the bad ones. Yours specifically stood out."

Maria appeared on Santana's side and looked between the two of them, taking in the joy on both of their faces. She seemed relieved to see Santana laughing again after the last half hour of pouting. She couldn't blame her mom though; it couldn't have been fun to drag around a buzz kill all afternoon.

"And is this Mama Lopez," Roz asked Maria, smirking.

Santana laughed and nodded. "Yup, good ol' Mama Lopez."

Maria looked a little annoyed but extended her hand for Roz to shake. They exchanged pleasant smile and then Maria turned to Santana.

"And who's this," Maria asked nicely.

"This is Ms. Washington, my admissions counselor."

"I was just letting your girl here know that we all loved her submission. She's the brightest of the bunch this year."

Maria's smile doubled and she more eagerly welcomed Roz's company. "Really?"

"Mhm. We were all wondering how we haven't heard of her yet. In some upstart, youngsters talent competition or some mumbo jumbo like that."

"You wouldn't have," Maria said, "not unless you follow show choir competitions."

Roz shook her head. "We do actually, that's why I was confused. Where do y'all come from?"

"Ohio," Santana said drearily. She put as much indifference into her answer as manageable.

"Oh," Roz said, tapping a finger against her lips. "Did you just move out here?"

"No," Maria said. "Just visiting."

Roz glanced back and forth between the two of them in confusion and then jutted her hip out to the side, perching her hand on it. "You are aware this school has no on-site housing, right?"

Santana's stomach dropped. Why hadn't she thought about that in any of her research? She turned to her mom and picked her body language apart for some idea that she knew about it. There was some sort of restrained hesitance in Maria's composure that Santana didn't understand, but she couldn't take the time to figure it out; her future had just been derailed because she had nowhere to live. Maybe her mom did know, and that's why Anna had suggested her and Brittany live in a shared commuter dorm, whatever or wherever that was.

She didn't know, but her mom didn't seem bothered.

"We're aware," she said, straightening her purse over her arm.

"Mhm," Santana agreed falsely.

"Good. Well I hope you end up here in the fall, Lopez. We could use some talent like you. It won't go to waste here. Maybe I'll even get you to take my jazz history class, or a weight-training one."

Santana put off her confusion for a second to take in that information and then couldn't stop smirking. "Wait, _you're_ the personal trainer?"

Roz didn't seem pleased with whatever Santana was implying. "Yes and I'll whip you're sweet little behind into shape in no time with that kind of attitude to compete with."

"Trust me," Santana said. "I don't need anyone to whip _me_ into shape. I got a lock on it."

"We'll see, Lopez. Come November you'll be begging for someone to saw off that freshman pudge."

Maria snickered and Santana shot her a glare. "Not a chance."

Roz nodded and gave her a wink. "I hope the rest of your senior year is good, girl. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Santana said, nodding. "You, too."

Roz turned and walked down the long hallway, passing through a doorway into what looked like a classroom. Santana wondered if they could go after her and sit in on what she was teaching, but when she felt her mother's insistent hand on her arm, she knew they wouldn't be staying much longer.

"I'm starving, sweetie. Do you want to go back to the hotel and see if Brittany and Anna are already back?"

She remembered the housing situation when Brittany was brought up again. "Mama, what about where I'm gonna—"

"Let's get back, Santana. We'll talk about it later. I'm sure Brittany is dying to see you."

Santana brightened with the prospect of finally seeing Brittany. Even if her mom had completely side-swiped what was, in her opinion, a very important subject. Plus she was hungry too and couldn't wait to find out what they'd be eating for dinner since Anna said she'd make them reservations somewhere.

Maria wrapped her arm around Santana and walked them through the courtyard towards the entrance. "So did you like it?"

"I loved it," Santana said. She didn't have to worry about hating where she went to school after spending all day discovering the life she had waiting for her there.

The only thing she had to worry about was Brittany, but she had a good feeling that nothing could stop them from ending up together, not after everything they'd been through. If school was the only thing stopping Brittany from joining her, then they'd beat it together, one way or another.

* * *

><p>Brittany didn't let Santana go for ten minutes when they first saw each other. Someone would think they hadn't seen each other in years, rather than hours, but on days as important as that, it felt that long. After those ten minutes, Brittany stayed in Santana's lap on the bed in the hotel while they watched TV and waited for the taxi to get there. They were heading to <em>Dominick's<em>, an Italian restaurant and bar in West Hollywood. It was a twenty minute car ride from the hotel, Anna read off Google Maps, and they all spent their remaining time getting ready.

Santana and Brittany had already changed, once Anna told them it was a formal restaurant, both into dresses; Santana's a brown, plaid cutout dress, resting at mid-thigh and Brittany in a black, flutter sleeve dress that stopped around the same area as Santana's. They were both resting on the bed after doing their makeup and watching a rerun of _Keeping up with the Kardashians_, neither one of them really entertained with it.

They had both already discussed what had happened during both of their days—both praising each other for their successful song and dance—lamenting on the parts that were furthering their challenges of trying to simply be with each other and being happy. Santana encouraged Brittany that she could raise the grades she needed and Brittany reassured Santana that they would find somewhere for her to live.

The taxi arrived and escorted them all through the city in dusk towards dinner. They were all pretty much in a uniform state of hunger and didn't have much to say to each other besides pointing out familiar stores and restaurants. Brittany was happy to realize that while the scenery of Los Angeles was incredibly different from the hills and dirt of Lima, the bustle of the city remained similar to what she had experienced in New York, Columbus, and Miami. It was still different, but similar enough to remind her that they _could_ live there without being totally out of place.

Once inside Dominicks, a moderate bistro filled with categories of people enjoying their dinners in various states of moods. The hostess led them through the building and out onto a patio that Brittany found herself in awe of. There was plant life growing throughout the walls and a tree not five feet from their table. The industrial supports holding the ceiling up were littered with light bulbs, more orange than yellow that gave the room a rich coloring all around them. They were seated at a square, white-clothed table for four with one chair on any side. Santana took the one adjacent to her on the left and her mom sat across, Maria doing the same with Santana. They were each handed menus and their waitress, an older brunette, took their drink orders.

Everyone at the table ordered from two forms of water—with lemon or without—and all settled in to scour the menu. Brittany read over the list and let her mouth water at all the possible meals. She glanced over and saw Santana licking her lips as well.

After they got their drinks, everyone ordered—Santana had rigatoni, Brittany had steak, Anna chose a grilled Panini, and Maria picked spaghetti and meatballs—and then let their waitress leave to put in the order.

"This place is beautiful," Anna commented, admiring the wall of potted plants.

"It's so pretty," Brittany said. She loved the feeling of the place and the warmth it had from inside to out on the patio.

"How did your audition go, Brittany," Maria asked, changing the subject.

"Great. I'm pretty sure it was better than any time I've done it before."

Anna nodded and smiled across the table at her daughter. "She gets better every time I see her dance."

"That's kind of the point," Brittany joked. Her mom stuck her tongue out and she did the same.

"What about you Santana? Did you like the Musician's Institute?" Anna asked.

"I loved it," Santana said, eyes gleaming. Brittany didn't think she could even try faking that much enthusiasm. She knew Santana must have really enjoyed her day for it to have that much of an impact on her. "I couldn't imagine going anywhere else now."

"You could always go to Ohio State and major in dentistry," Maria teased, sipping on her water.

Brittany gagged. "Ew, other people's teeth are gross."

"Don't forget you had that month where you refused to brush your teeth, Brittany," Anna said. "Until we convinced you soda wasn't a suitable alternative."

Santana grabbed her chin. "I'm glad we weren't kissing at that point in your life."

Brittany pouted until Santana leaned over and pecked her on the lips.

"Hell, I'd have done it anyway."

"Well isn't that adorable," Anna said, "and gross."

"Yeah, yeah." Suddenly Santana's attention turned on her mother and Brittany could tell the conversation wouldn't be as light-hearted anymore.

"Mama? Where am I supposed to live here?"

Maria took in her daughter's full appearance before turning on Anna and raising her eyebrow. Brittany kept her attention between the two of them even as their food was being set down in front of them. Everyone could sense the tension enough that none of them dared eating, even Santana.

"Honey," Maria started. She flipped out her napkin over her lap and patted it down across her legs. "This was supposed to be a graduation present, but we hadn't known that you'd find out about the housing thing before then."

"Who are we? You and dad?"

Maria nodded her head to the side. "Well yes, but also Anna and Tony."

Brittany looked at her mom and figured it out before Santana did. "It's my present too, isn't it?"

"Yes, Brittany."

"So what is it," Santana asked, eagerly.

Maria checked with Anna if she had permission to tell their secret, and from the look Brittany gathered from her mom's face, she got the go ahead. "We've been talking about it since the two of you decided to move out here and we decided that while you'll both be in the same city, we'd feel a lot safer with the two of you living under the same roof. In an apartment together."

Brittany's eyes widened when she realized what that implied. That she and Santana could live together in the city. They didn't have to worry about roommates, or getting from dorm to dorm to see each other. Every day they could come home and be with each other no matter what.

Santana didn't seem happy, but more conflicted.

"How are we going to pay for that?" she asked.

"You're not going to," Anna told her. "We're going to go half on all of your living expenses for the school year."

"But what's the catch?"

Brittany thought, _Of course there'd be a catch._

"The catch is that if _we_ are paying your rent, you both need jobs to pay for everything else. Food, transportation, all those kinds of things. You have to prove to us that you know this is a privilege and won't take advantage of the gift we're giving you."

"So all we have to do is get jobs," Santana said.

"Mhm," Anna answered. "From September to May. Every year you live here."

Santana's face erupted with happiness and Brittany couldn't help but accompany her. "Hell yes, this is the sweetest present I've gotten in my whole life." Santana turned to her and grabbed one of her hands. "Babe, we get to live together."

"Yeah, I heard," Brittany joked.

Santana ignored her and pulled her into a kiss, carefully avoiding both of their plates. There was such joy in the buzz of Santana's lips as she pressed into Brittany, and it occurred to her that they hadn't even eaten dinner yet. Brittany broke away and she pointed at their food. "Let's eat."

Santana stared down at her meal like it was the first time she'd seen it, and Brittany figured with her confusion and then explosion of excitement over their moms' present, it very well might've been.

* * *

><p>On Sunday, their last day, after spending a few morning hours in the pool surrounded by hundreds of other guests, Maria suggested they visit the Santa Monica Pier. Anna insisted that they were all sick of travelling in the back of taxis and she left with her purse to find a rent a car. She managed to find on that would rent it to her until six the next morning, where someone from the agency would pick it up from the airport. Santana heard Anna and Maria discuss the ungodly extra fee that had cost her but neither one of them seemed to mind all that much.<p>

It was a long car ride in their rented Chevy Aveo from the hotel to the beach in the traffic, but Santana took the time to show Brittany the counselor who reminded her of Coach Sylvester on her iPhone. They laughed at the similarity and then Brittany showed her the guy who had conducted her interview and they found out he was a retired professional dancer who had toured with Madonna and Prince in the eighties. Anna made a comment about how cute he was back then and endured glares from Maria, Santana, and her daughter.

When they got to the pier, they walked around on the sunny boardwalk for about an hour and then went down onto the beach. Crowded would have been an understatement as Santana tried to find an open enough space for her and Brittany to go through and stick their feet in the water. Brittany hadn't ever seen the Pacific Ocean before and Santana wanted them to share that experience together. After a comment about how cold the water was and one saying that she didn't see how much different it was from the Atlantic, Santana grabbed her hand and pulled them away. She didn't have enough of an opportunity to see the teasing smirk on Brittany's face.

Maria directed them to the car when they all declared hunger and they headed towards the PCH in search of a restaurant Santana had gone to on her previous trip to California when she was visiting her future home. Little did she know that in six years, she'd be taking the same kind of trip again with more of a definite outcome.

A tiny place off the highway called Malibu Seafood stood out from the road and Maria turned into the parking lot, careful of the cars pulling out of parking spots and the driveway itself. They were all starving and couldn't get inside fast enough. Luck enough, their food came fast and they were all tired out from their day to have much of a conversation. It was a peaceful end to the trip and Santana was happy nothing overly tragic had happened.

That was until she took a look at Brittany's forlorn glance outside one of the windows that spread over the ocean in the distance. Night had fallen outside, but there were enough lights from the highway to illuminate the tiny patch of sand that separated the road from the water. Santana could tell something wasn't right, but she didn't want to bring something up in front of their moms if Brittany didn't want it announced. She settled for devising a plan to give them a moment alone.

"Hey, are you two in a hurry," she asked Anna and her mom.

They both looked at each other and then shook their heads with indifferent expressions.

"Would you mind if Brittany and I went outside for a little and saw the ocean again?" Brittany glanced up back at her and she feigned a smile. "It's totally cooler at night."

Brittany nodded and then started to clean up her plate. Anna gave Santana a knowing glance and then shared one with Maria who waved them away. "_Be careful_. I'll text you when we're ready to go, okay?"

"Yup. Don't rush."

Santana cleaned up her plate and snagged Brittany's hand, pulling her from the restaurant quickly, but gently. Brittany followed her dutifully, an amused smile on her face replacing the saddened gaze she had before.

They went outside and approached the side of the road. Traffic had thinned out since they got to the restaurant and they only had to wait for three or four cars to go by before they could run across the road onto the dirty sand. It wasn't a proper beach; just a tiny patch of twig-ridden sand under a hill that led up to the highway they had just ran across. They walked a few more steps until Brittany slid her flip-flops off, letting go of Santana's hand, and walked ankle-deep into the water.

She was surrounded by moonlight in Santana's view, blonde hair falling past her shoulders onto bare arms. Her milky legs were reflected in the dark water as she walked back and forth through the minuscule waves crashing around her feet. Santana thought she looked beautiful, but once again sad.

"What's wrong, B?"

Brittany bit her lip and frowned at the sky. She didn't seem to like whatever was on her mind about as much as Santana expected to like it.

"What if we don't make it?" Brittany said quietly.

Santana approached her timidly and wrapped both arms around her waist. She laid her head down on Brittany's shoulder and titled it backward to see her face. "We'll get here, I promise."

Brittany paused and shut her eyes, shaking her head back and forth slowly. "That's not what I mean."

Santana didn't like when Brittany acted like that. Her mind was made up about something and the more she danced around the subject, the more anxious it made Santana. She wanted to know what Brittany was thinking, and not have to guess.

"What then, Brittany?"

Brittany didn't look at her but she pointedly ran her fingers along Santana's arms.

"What if we break up after we're here? When we live together? This plan makes sense; that our parents will pay, but that's only if we're together. What happens if we aren't anymore?"

As much as it hurt Santana to consider that Brittany was wondering about their relationship's fragility, she could understand the concern. It was something she hadn't even considered. What did happen if they were no longer together? The simple answer seemed to be either that they would tough it out in the same house for the rest of the school year or they would separate and their families would pay for their own apartments. She told Brittany that and endured another shaken head.

"What if we have to live together and we aren't in love anymore? Can you handle that?"

"Why are you thinking about this, Britt?" She really wanted to know what could have brought that u p.

Brittany finally looked at her, almost in tears. "Our moms moved to the city when they were our age, San. What if the same thing that happens to them, happens to us?"

Santana couldn't help but let herself tear up as well. It felt like Brittany was grasping at any way to find a flaw in their arrangement. Santana knew she wasn't trying to hurt her, but must have been simply scared. And she wanted to find a way to tear that feeling away from her.

"Unless your dad has been secretly harboring homophobic feelings towards me since the beginning, I don't think we have to worry about that happening to us," she tried. Brittany smiled, but it fell away. "Brittany I can't tell you what's gonna happen. I think the shit that's happened to us so far should prove that to you, but I can tell you that no matter what we're going to be in each other's lives. Even if we don't end up married, with two kids, and still maintaining rocking bods like I dream about, we'll still have each other. I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Brittany's smile lasted longer than a few seconds that time and Santana figured it had worked in calming Brittany down. All the things she said were the truth, but they weren't things she'd ever wanted to admit. She didn't want to say that she had already contemplated everything Brittany was worried about over and over again for months. But if Brittany needed to hear it from her, she'd tell her over and again that there was no way they'd leave each other. Not entirely. It was their friendship that brought them together, and it was their friendship that would survive in the end.

"Thanks, Santana."

"I love you, B."

"I love you too."

Brittany leaned down into Santana's space and kissed her, lips pressuring against her intimately. If Santana didn't know any better, she'd think Brittany was trying to initiate something with her.

"San," Brittany breathed against her lips.

"Hmm?" She asked and then kissed Brittany again, passionately thrumming up her blood pressure.

"This is our first time alone all weekend," Brittany said, kissing under her ear where she breathed hot air against the skin.

Santana felt a jolt of electricity reach her center and she pulled away to survey the beach. "Britt, there's not much shade here."

"We're under a hill. The only way someone could see us is if they walk along the beach…"

"But it's dirty…"

Brittany's eyes lit up in the moonlight. "That's the point, Santana."

"No," Santana laughed, "I meant the beach."

"You are being such a tease," Brittany said. She grabbed onto Santana's hips and pulled her close, their bodies delicately sliding up against each other. "You know how little I like being teased." She kissed Santana again, pushing her tongue past soft lips to reach its companion. Santana moaned deep in her throat, apparently spurning Brittany on by the rough grip on her side, a hand on hot skin underneath her tanktop.

"If you proposition me in more public places," Santana breathed between kisses, "I'm gonna start to think," another kiss, "you're a bit of an exhibitionist."

Brittany nodded into her, their noses brushing together. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," Santana said diving in for another kiss.

They fell onto each other on the grimy beach littered with twigs, rocks, and the occasional empty water bottle. It was a far cry from their comfortable hotel room, but any opportunity together they'd take, calling it an experience to recount on later days when they could laugh about their young love. Santana wondered if they would make it to those days often, and apparently, so did Brittany, But what she knew to understand was that their short lives had given them both something that a lot of people searched years for.

It wasn't something to take for granted. And if sex on a dirty beach on the side of a mildly populated highway meant she appreciated what life had given her, Santana would take it any day for the rest of her life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading :)**


	56. so yes, i'll see you there

**A/N: You know, this isn't nearly what I wanted it to be, but you haven't had an update in forever and this actually helps me split up a pretty lengthy chapter. Contents not much, but it's still not short. We're preparing for prom, peoples. So part 1 of 2 or 3, I'm not sure, it's a long fiasco. Part chapters also help me write more faster, so this might work as a good thing. **

************As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites.******** I hope the wait isn't pissing people off!  
><strong>**

* * *

><p>In South Lima, which was only a fifteen minute drive from the high school, Rachel pushed Quinn into Riverside Medical Center. They had spent the last hour in glee club debating if the name was meant to be taken ironically or if the practice had moved from somewhere where there had indeed been a river. Quinn made Rachel promise to not assault the first doctor or nurse she saw with the question, and that they could look it up at a later time. She promised, but that didn't stop her from engaging the physical therapist regularly assigned to Quinn twenty minutes after being there.<p>

The taller, lean therapist, a guy in his mid thirties, smiled at Quinn first and then laughed in response to the question. Rachel hadn't come to her first couple sessions but when she started making progress, she finally let her tag along. Lawrence, her physical therapist, had been taken with Rachel from the second she quickly distinguished his body tone was that of a swimmers and he spent most of the afternoon giving his story to an attentive listener. He was a failed competitive swimmer who found treating his hurt teammates more satisfying than living in the water.

Rachel found him admirable.

Quinn found him ordinary.

She couldn't think of a more classic tale in the book. But that didn't change the fact the he had the hands of a god when he massaged her down after the workouts they went through or a pushover—or someone Rachel could talk into taking a more comfortable approach. He had the tenacity of Coach Sylvester combined with the morale of Mr. Schuester. It gave her chills to think of him as their creepy lovechild.

"It has to do with the name of the road it used to be on, Rachel," Lawrence answered, offering to push Quinn. "Higher ups didn't want to change the name and lose repeat business."

Rachel refused his offer and continued to push Quinn into the gym. They went past a few other patients, mostly older men and young women, being helped from machine to machine or getting stretched out by other doctors. Rachel always thought an appropriate word to use for what they were doing was 'manhandling' their patients from the way people were contorted and forced to their limits. But she respected the institution that had Quinn taking stronger steps as the weeks went by.

"Well that makes it sound as if you want people to get hurt," Rachel said. "More accidents mean more cliental, right?"

Quinn chuckled at the blunt smirk on Rachel's lips and admired her best friend. She didn't like that Rachel had been reduced to only a friend in her life after everything that happened between them, but she wouldn't complain for what she had. They were giving each other time, however long that meant, and she would willingly wait for as long as it took.

Lawrence shook his head and turned to Quinn as they approached a set of beams with mats in between that she had gotten used to walking across as pure torture. He held out his hand and encouraged her to take it. She did, wearily.

"Are we starting a new workout," she asked.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Not quite. Just rearranging a few things. I thought we might step up the intensity this week. Word around here says McKinley's revving up for prom next Friday."

Of course prom was the next week; Quinn had been planning for it the last two. The only thing standing in her way was the possibility that someone would have to roll her around the dance floor. After her remarkable falls through the three previous sessions, she had pretty much given up hope on the whole idea, but Rachel had been subtly suggesting her interest in prom every day since the posters went up.

"Outdated vernacular aside," Rachel said, "you are quite correct. But Quinn's been pretty set on not going."

Quinn tried to interject. "That's not—"

Lawrence cut her off. "Why not, Quinn? Prom's a huge deal for girls your age isn't it?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and lifted herself from the chair, supporting herself on his arm. Lawrence grabbed her arm and slung it around his neck, practically carrying her to the beginning of the beams. Quinn had tried to stand up on her own the day they'd cut the casts off and it ended with a split lip courteous of her dresser which she used as a support. As irritated as she was by the topic of conversation, she wasn't dumb enough to push herself too far into another embarrassment like that.

He set her on the mat and she grabbed onto both supports easily and waited for him to take his place next to Rachel around the middle. Rachel put her thumb up and winked encouragingly. Quinn never regretted bringing Rachel to physical therapy, because as much of a fan as Rachel was about herself, she supported Quinn a hundred times more.

"Small steps, first, Quinn," he instructed, dropping his arms on the bars lackadaisically. "What about you Rachel; prom _your_ thing?"

Quinn put her head down to watch her feet and a little bit to hide her smirk as she waited for Rachel's answer. He phrased his question the exact same way Quinn's mom had the night before when they were eating dinner together.

"I enjoy school dances, although I've had my fair share of troubling ones in the past." Quinn stumbled into the side of the track and Lawrence checked to make sure she was fine. She signaled and he gave her a firm nod. Rachel continued, "But senior prom feels important enough for me to overlook anything that's happened in the past and have fun with my friends."

Quinn smiled at the ground and made a few more definitive steps. She could feel that her legs had grown significantly stronger than they were a few weeks before and thanked God that she hadn't permanently lost their use. Not walking, or dancing, again felt like a torture she couldn't stand to endure.

"Hasn't anyone asked you to go with them, yet? Pretty girl like you must have guys falling at her feet." Quinn's head snapped up and she scowled at the side of his head, until he turned towards her and she dropped it to feign indifference. "Or you, Quinn? Any offers?"

She shook her head and dropped it to the floor again, pushing herself hard enough that one knee dipped. She caught herself before she fell and Lawrence made a move to help her. When his hand came into contact with her calve, she mumbled, "I got it." He backed off and went back to stand with Rachel. She had conditioned him over the course of her treatment to understand that if she didn't want help, he wasn't to interfere.

He allowed her to act that way if she didn't quit, but that wasn't even a question in her mind. Quinn Fabray wasn't a quitter.

His gaze fell back on Rachel and his unanswered question. She ducked her head and rubbed the sole of her flats against the floor. "No one has asked me."

"Well that's a shame," Lawrence said. He hoisted himself up on the bar and put his hand on Quinn's back as she passed in front of them. "Go a little faster."

"I can't," she said. Her legs were stronger, but she wasn't ready for another fall.

"Just do it, Quinn," he argued.

She stopped where she was and glared at him. "Excuse me?"

He held his ground and squared his shoulders. "Did I stutter?"

Quinn quirked and eyebrow and let her snarl round into a smirk. She liked Lawrence. "I really can't do it."

"Oh," he said, looking around. "Did you try it already while I wasn't here?"

She eyed him and turned back to the beams, progressing at the same speed as before. "I don't want to hurt myself…"

"No, you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend," he snapped.

Quinn practically toppled to the ground with a new weakness in her legs and she caught herself against the right bar. She glanced from him to Rachel, seeing the blush on her face, and shook her head.

"W-What?"

"In front of Rachel," he said. "You don't want to fall on your face in front of your friend again, I got it Quinn. But if she's going to get in the way of your rehabilitation, she can't come anymore."

"What," Rachel objected. He put a hand up with his eyes still on Quinn.

"She's n-not," Quinn said. "She's not a _hindrance_, Lawrence. I like her being here."

"So do I," he said. "She's good company on days when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Which is practically," he swayed his head back and forth, "every day."

He was starting to irritate her the more he opened his mouth. "Why is it a big deal I speed up today? It's not going to make much of a difference. The doctor said I have another month before I'm walking normally."

"Screw him. I could have you dancing for next weekend if you just trust me enough and do what I tell you."

"I think this is getting out of hand," Rachel interjected. "If she's not ready then let her be."

Quinn didn't say anything and kept her gaze on the floor. She didn't want to give any of them false hope, and didn't want him to do it either.

Lawrence hung his head and growled. "Quinn, you're one of the most challenging people I've ever met, and I knew that could either be a really good thing or a very annoying thing for helping you. I can tell you're not one for bullshit, so let me be real honest with you. If you don't try harder, and _do what I tell you_, then you aren't going to have the same mobility you had before the accident. A lot of people run through here and give up after they realize how hard _getting back_ is. I don't want that for you."

Quinn faced the wall and took in a deep breath. She understood what he said, but pride hadn't ever been something she'd easily combated with. Failure wasn't something she had an easy time recovering from. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

"It's not a hope if I tell you what's going to happen," he insisted.

Quinn could tell how hard Rachel tried to stay silent. Not letting her feelings get the best of her, she shook her head in defeat.

"I don't know if I can make fake expectations…"

"Then let me. Hell, I'll go one step further and make them real," he enthused.

Quinn saw Rachel's grin from the corner of her eye and let his enthusiasm overwhelm her. If she couldn't create hope for herself, she could borrow some of theirs. Then when _she_ failed, _they _could be to blame.

An hour later, Quinn hadn't fallen once. Not even when Rachel poked her in the butt the one time she'd walked past holding onto Lawrence's arm. The three of them continued in their normal fashion of bullshitting and teasing each other, but added in a new method of advancement that had Quinn sweating her decision to let him have control.

It scared her, but she noticed her range of motion extending, and her focus waning from actually thinking about walking to whatever they were talking about. Walking was becoming second nature again, as much as it could have in an hour's time.

Brazen and bold from her walk between the rails, Quinn took a risk. For the first time since she'd taken a dresser drawer to the face, she decided to try and stand on her own legs. Rachel and Lawrence watched on with heavy eyes and she felt an expected sense of failure pulsing within her veins.

With a deep breath, she took her first step.

Killing the success of the afternoon, her legs buckled, sending her knee first into the soft padding of the mat.

But she wasn't upset, because Rachel's laughter sidled up along her own and Lawrence helped her to her feet, carrying her to the massage table. They were all chatting and talking about her achievement at walking near normal speed as he massaged the tense knots from her muscles. Even Rachel put her hands into the mix, shyly giving ten percent of the effort Lawrence did. She couldn't imagine Rachel hurting her in any way when those soft hands were massaging the muscles in her shoulders. She was silently grateful having Lawrence's hands on her kept relaxed moans from slipping through her lips.

The worst part about finishing a session was getting back in the chair and being given her new exercises, but Quinn took them with a new fervor. Lawrence had given her the outlook that if she wanted to dance at her prom with Rachel, she could do it. Even if he didn't know the prize for her efforts was the girl that he traded exercise tips with for the last three weeks.

Rachel pushed Quinn through the automatic doors towards the car in silence as they both wound down from what had been the most exciting trip to the doctor's office either one of them had ever taken. Nearing the side of the car, Quinn shooed Rachel away from helping her into the seat. Rachel pouted, but let her get in by herself while she collapsed the wheelchair and threw it in the backseat. Rachel got into the car quietly and turned the key in the ignition.

Quinn was about to check her phone when the car shut off and she felt Rachel staring at her. She glanced over and saw Rachel studying her face.

"Is everything alright," Quinn asked.

Rachel bit the inside of her lip and squinted. Quinn could tell she was debating something from the way her eyes shifted back and forth nervously, but what could have changed in the course of time between the back of the car and the driver's seat?

"I want us to dance at prom," Rachel said suddenly.

Quinn felt her face heat up and she had to look out the windshield to calm down. She wanted to dance with Rachel too, but she didn't know how to be as abrupt about anything as Rachel often chose to be.

"I want to dance too," Quinn answered, looking back. "I know Lawrence said I might be able to, but let's not—"

"No you don't understand," Rachel interrupted. "I want _us_ to dance. Together."

"Oh," she muttered.

Apparently, Rachel didn't take that as a vote of confidence. "Are you not ready yet?"

She could tell Rachel didn't mean her ability to dance, but rather her ability to dance with her in public. But she didn't know how to tell her that it was exactly the opposite.

"Rachel, I want more than anything to be with you at prom. But you want it to go better than last year, and I'm not sure coming out to the school is going to be the right way to accomplish that." Quinn shuddered to remember junior prom and how she'd ended the night a torn shell of a person.

"But what if being with you is the only way it'll be better than last year?" Rachel sounded so hopeful and determined that Quinn couldn't bear to tell her no. Her concern wasn't for herself, but if Rachel wanted to spend the night together at prom, then she'd do anything to make her happy.

"I want to say yes," Quinn said. "But you're totally ruining my asking you to prom right now."

Rachel's face lit up and she dove across the console to wrap her arms around Quinn who laughed and attempted to hug her back as best she could in the confined space.

"You were going to ask me to go with you," Rachel exclaimed.

"Yes, but you kind of beat me to the punch."

Rachel sat back in her seat and gestured negatively by waving her hands around. "I can pretend this conversation never happened and you can ask me! When were you going to do it? How? Is someone helping you? Is it Santana?"

"Rachel! Enough! You already ruined the surprise of me asking, so can I at least have the suspense of when, where, and how?"

Rachel nodded vigorously and started the car again in haste, like she was trying to make time move faster. Quinn didn't have to analyze her actions much to understand why Rachel acted the way she did. They'd known each other long enough to figure simple things like that out.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?" Rachel asked, putting her seatbelt on.

Quinn leaned as best she could across the divider between them and turned Rachel's head with one hand on her jaw, the other on her shoulder. She kissed her frantically and felt her stomach leap with the finality of getting to feel Rachel in that way again. The moment should have been so simple and dull in the car outside of her doctor's appointment, but no other time felt more right. She hated that they were expected home for dinner at Rachel's in the next hour or else she'd find a way to convince the girl to spend the rest of their night in the parking lot doing a lot more of the same.

Rachel loved that Quinn could create romantic moments out of the most random places and she could barely keep up with her emotional response to the kiss. Kissing Quinn felt like sinking into her bed after a long day; Quinn soothed her and let her just relax, safe from the world. She couldn't ask for a better sensation and wondered how she'd ever thought someone else could make her feel that perfectly.

Quinn broke away enough to take a breath and released it slowly against Rachel's slightly parted lips. Their eyes opened and refocused on each other, both taking in what had just happened.

"Go to prom with me," Quinn whispered.

Rachel smiled and played with the hairs her fingers had sought out from the second Quinn's lips met hers. Muscle memory was one hell of a thing.

"Was that your big plan?"

Quinn shook her head back and forth. "I didn't want to wait for your answer. I've done enough waiting."

Rachel cupped Quinn's neck from either side and smoothed her hair down beneath her palms. She looked back and forth between hazel eyes to build anticipation and only answered when they finally were desperately pleading mercy with her.

"I would love to go to prom with you, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn felt her heart beat against her rib cage and was happy to finally have that thickening feeling back in her throat. If she took away just enough of those words, Rachel had told her she loved her and that was good enough for the time being. Maybe it meant the same thing, but either way she finally had her girl back and she wouldn't let anything stop them from being together. Especially not the McKinley High School Prom.

* * *

><p>"So you're going with red again," Quinn questioned from outside the dressing room. Santana could have gone out and smacked her in the back of the head for asking the same question a third time. Ever since they'd gotten to the mall, Quinn had been on a vocal diatribe about how happy she was for prom and what colors Santana <em>couldn't<em> wear in light of what she and Rachel had decided on. It was enough to piss her off but she just let her friend bask in the glow of having the prom date she actually wanted versus all the years before when she'd gone with a prop to hold her purse.

"Red is tried and true, Fabray," Santana answered, tugging the zipper up her side. She settled on red because, for her, prom meant redoing what had gone horribly wrong the year before. With another red dress, she could completely replace the memories from last year with new, happy ones.

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose," Quinn said.

Santana groaned and cursed Brittany for making her go dress shopping with Quinn. Brittany didn't want them to see each other's dresses beforehand, and she went on a trip with Rachel to Dayton for a different selection of stores. She was a little irritated that she had to stick with the same five stores they'd all used the year before for prom, but she liked the idea of picking a dress and not having Brittany see it until that night. It took a lot of the pressure away, but _still_, she had to be the one to help Quinn try on dresses, and that didn't seem fair.

"Can I see it," Quinn asked, an eager urgency in her voice.

Santana checked herself out and decided that she found the right one. It had a sheer stretch of fabric that went over one shoulder and the full length tickled her toes. She imagined black heels and nodded in her decision. Her hair was down, but she thought it would look good up paired with the top of the dress, and kept that in mind.

"Yeah," Santana said. She turned around and opened the door, giving Quinn a full view. There were girls behind Quinn that she recognized as underclassmen Cheerio's and gave them a glare to stop staring. They all scurried away or into empty dressing rooms with longing looks on their faces and she knew the dress killed if she was already turning heads. Quinn looked her up and down and nodded.

"You look hot," Quinn stated. "In an objective kind of way."

"Keep telling yourself that, Q" Santana returned with a smirk. "Try not to drool on the dress."

Quinn mockingly smiled. "Sorry, Santana, bitch isn't my type."

Santana turned around and looked at herself in the mirror again, straightening the strap over her arm. "No, your type is height-deficient."

"Do we have to get out measuring tape and show you that there's about a quarter inch of difference between the two of you?"

Santana caught Quinn's eye in the mirror. "That doesn't help your case much then, does it?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Now that you've finally found a dress you like, can you help me try mine on?"

"I like this whole, you asking me for help thing, you know." She _didn't_; she liked getting a rise out of her.

Quinn rolled away from Santana's changing room and went across the hallway into her own. Santana followed, still in her dress, and closed the door behind them. "Which one first?"

"I don't know. The blue one?"

Quinn nodded and got herself out of the seat and onto the bench. Santana noticed she didn't have that much trouble getting around since the casts had been taken off, but also noted that Quinn never tried to pull herself upright. She either couldn't, or wouldn't stand, and Santana wondered what the problem was, considering she had seen Quinn's legs move pretty easily.

"Do you want me to turn around or," Santana asked.

"No, I don't mind… unless you do."

There had been a time when Quinn ran from the room at the first sign of half-naked girls, and Santana was a little proud that she had finally gotten over that fear. Fear of what, she never understood, but regardless Quinn didn't have the same insecurities she'd grown up with and that was promising. Her friend had definitely changed.

"No," Santana said. "I mean, I'm going to have to help you change into the damn dress anyway so I'm gonna see something whether or not you want me to."

Quinn smirked, lifting her tanktop off and dropping it to the floor. "As long as you aren't being a perv, I don't care."

Santana wasn't checking her out, but that didn't mean she didn't look. She was mostly looking to see if the accident had left any massive scarring, but was comforted that they only scar was about an inch long on the left side of her back. Other than a few stretch marks on her stomach and sides, Quinn was practically blemish free. Seeing Quinn like that would have sent Santana into a jealous frenzy had it been two years earlier, but instead she felt relieved that no one had done a shitty stitch job in the aftermath of her surgery. She wondered if maybe her dad knew Quinn well enough to not let an idiot do the job and did it himself to make sure she'd appear untouched.

"I'm not feeling confident about our agreement with you looking at me like that, S," Quinn interrupted as she pulled the dress up around her legs.

Santana stepped forward and hunched over to wrap and arm around Quinn's waist, pulling her up. "Sorry…" She led Quinn's hands to her shoulders and made sure she wouldn't fall before tugging the dress up to her chest. Quinn kept her gaze behind Santana and she was grateful to not have to look her friend in the eye while she adjusted the dress around her body. It was nothing short of awkward for the both of them.

Before Quinn could even turn to see herself in the mirror, Santana shook her head. "This is ugly as shit. Take it off."

Quinn balked. "I didn't even get to see it."

"Are you going to trust a mirror over me," Santana asked. Quinn didn't protest and she added, "Thought so. Can I take it off, now?"

"If you must," Quinn said with a sigh.

Santana carefully drug it down to where Quinn could safely manage with it on the bench and sat her back down. As funny as it might have been to see Quinn fall or trip, she didn't think being the recognizable lesbian cheerleader in a dressing room with another girl would go over with an employee. She let Quinn get undressed again and sifted through the other dresses on a hanger next to the door.

"This is a pretty color," Santana said, lifting a purple dress from underneath the others. "I wouldn't take you for a purple person, Q."

"Rachel's texted me pink, so I thought it could work as a cute scheme for us."

"And you picked blue as a first choice," Santana teased. "That's a little butch."

Quinn punched Santana in the thigh and she stumbled forward into the wall of the dressing room. She turned around and glared at Quinn who had her arms crossed. It would have been a lot more intimidating if she weren't half-naked.

"Uncalled for, Quinn," Santana said, rubbing her leg.

"No, you damn well deserved that. _You _fucking picked it. Now hand me the dress."

Santana cocked her head in amusement and dangled the purple dress just out of Quinn's reach for a half of a second until she gave in and handed it to her. Quinn swung at her again, but she sidestepped quick enough to avoid another punch to her leg. She was lucky the girl couldn't reach any higher or she would have bruised arms for a week.

Quinn struggled into the next dress and got to the same point again, ushering Santana over to help her up. Instead of resting completely against Santana, she let some of her weight lean against one of the walls and tried to hold herself up. Santana could see her legs get more and more wobbly the longer she stood. She readied herself to catch Quinn just in time because not a moment later, she tugged the dress up and sent herself toppling backwards into the opposite wall. Santana grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her back up, keeping an arm out to support her again.

They resumed the same awkward position as earlier and Santana helped Quinn adjust the silver straps over her arms. She stepped back to get a better look, still letting Quinn grasp her arms for support, and marveled at how wonderful she looked.

She wasn't blind; Quinn was easily the most beautiful girl any of them had ever seen. At times, she couldn't understand how her small, pudgy, brunette best friend, Lucy, had ever transformed into the glamorous Quinn Fabray. But if she looked past the nose and her blonde hair, Quinn had turned into who she always thought Lucy would grow up to be. After all of the drama of course.

"So?"

"It's bangin'."

"That's a good thing, right?"

Santana laughed. "It's a very good thing. Who knew purple was your color."

Quinn turned to gaze at herself in the mirror and Santana suspected on some level she must have been realizing the same things she had. Part of her wanted to tell Quinn all of those things, but she didn't want the sentiment to be misconstrued. She never said anything before and it wouldn't matter to bring it up. She could be secretly proud of Quinn, or of Lucy, whichever her best friend preferred.

Quinn grinned at her through the mirror and then checked herself out thoroughly. Santana groaned as Quinn used her hips to twist and turn in the limited grasp of Santana's arms. She had to ignore her best instincts again to let her go and watch the laughable outcome. Then there would have been the consequences of that from Rachel, Brittany, _and_ Quinn, so she steadied her willpower and kept Quinn vertical.

"How do you think a crown is going to look paired with this," Quinn asked, lifting one hand to gather her hair up into a makeshift bun.

Santana felt her jaw hit the floor and she couldn't believe her ears. "You're running again?"

With a wit Santana didn't know existed, Quinn teased, "_Figuratively_, yes."

Santana carefully led Quinn back down to the bench and sat her down as gently as possible. Some conversations needed to happen without being a wall for someone to stand against.

"Does Rachel know?"

Quinn's forehead creased. "Not yet, but I'm going to tell her."

Santana covered her eyes with one hand, her ring finger and thumb on either temple. "Quinn, you have to have a running mate."

"I've considered that."

Santana's eyes snapped to her direction. "Oh you _have?"_

"Mhm. I'm going to ask Puck."

"Puck?" Santana almost shouted. "Puck, the father of your baby, _Puck_? Who dated Rachel's mom, Puck?"

"He's just a friend, Santana."

Santana stared pacing back and forth across the dressing room. She didn't want another post-prom consolation job when Quinn screwed up with Rachel again. More than that, she didn't want Rachel to again get screwed over with another one of Quinn's dumb plots.

"So, you are in fact retaining some crazy in that head, just to clarify?" She asked.

"It's not like Rachel is going to run with me, Santana. She already told me this year was about lying low and enjoying the dance with each other. We don't need the extra stress."

"Why are you even doing it? What is there to gain from being prom queen?"

Quinn flattened the dress in her lap and kept her eyes there as well. "Maybe so I can finally prove to everyone that I can do it."

"_Everyone_ or yourself?"

Quinn didn't say anything and Santana knew she had her. There wasn't much of Quinn that she didn't understand.

Santana hunched over, bringing their faces close together. "Quinn, listen to me. Last year, you pretended to date Finn and Sam for exactly this reason and it ended with you crying in the auditorium and me driving you home. Do you want to be the same person you used to be? Do you really want to make this same, idiot mistake again?"

"No, Santana, listen to _me._" Quinn was positively fuming. "I'm going to talk to Rachel before I make _any _decisions. Anything she is uncomfortable with, I will not do. Because that's _not_ who I am anymore. Insinuate I'm crazy one more time, and I'll beat the ever-living shit out of you. Got it? I'm not above violence after this past summer, S. Don't test me."

Santana stood upright and nodded. Even if she didn't agree, Quinn had her mind set and there wasn't use in arguing against it.

"Got it. But understand that even if I'm _your_ best friend, I'll beat the shit out of _you_ if you hurt her again. She's not just your friend anymore, Q. She's mine too."

Quinn smirked and grabbed Santana's wrist, trying to pull herself up. Santana got the message and helped lift her up. "Well I suppose I should thank you then."

"Why?"

Quinn laughed in Santana's face and hooked her arms around her neck. They fell into a hug before Quinn said loudly behind her, "For that sweet confession about being Rachel's friend I can use to torment you for the rest of our lives."

Santana groaned and dropped her forehead to Quinn's shoulder.

"Well, shit."

Quinn pulled away from her and smiled, completely erasing their whole conversation. "Now help me out of this dress."

* * *

><p>Two weeks before, Brittany took Kurt to Ms. Pillsbury's office against his will to ask for help. Ms. Pillsbury couldn't give him definite information, but she gave him an email to one of her high school friends who ended up in New York City at a public relations office. She didn't give them specifics, but she promised that if he took the initiative to contact the woman, she had associates with a few national magazines that could possibly set him up for an internship in the city.<p>

Kurt was at first apprehensive, unsure if someone who sounded that important would give a failed high school student the time of day. But after much encouragement from his dad, Brittany, and Blaine who had finally been told about the situation, Kurt agreed to at least send the woman an email.

To all of their delight she, Madeline Park, got back to him within a week and told him that her firm had a close relationship with two major fashion magazines, Vogue and Nylon, since he included that in his email. The firm apparently worked very closely with the magazine's promotions and distribution departments. Madeline promised to send Kurt information on internships as soon as she could, given their viability to his situation. As far as she knew, both companies ran internships for college bound fashion students, but she assured him that if he could present himself well enough for an interview, they often gave outsiders great consideration.

Brittany couldn't have been more excited, but Kurt seemed skeptical about the whole situation. He closely examined and reiterated most of the email aloud for her and Blaine, picking apart each sentence and debating over what hidden subtext ran in between the lines.

"It sounds like she's sending this as a formality," he said. "Something she promised Emma she would do as a favor, without any real commitment."

"I'm sure that's not what any of this means, Kurt," Blaine insisted, crossing his leg.

Brittany didn't understand why he couldn't accept that something he wanted had actually been presented to him as a possibility, especially considering he had barely done a lot of work to get it.

"It just feels light, you know? She's going to 'send me information?' What is that? Pamphlets I could have gotten off the internet?" Kurt paced the room with nervous energy.

"It sounds exclusive to me," Brittany said. "She's offering you something that not a lot of people have access to. Prime info."

Kurt continued to pace, flitting through the pages of the email that he'd printed off the computer. Brittany glanced unsurely at Blaine who shook his head and stood up. He crossed the room, took Kurt by the wrists, and led him over to the bed where Brittany was propped up on her elbows.

With Kurt in the middle, Blaine kept his hands, and Brittany leaned into his side for comfort. They wanted to help him, but he had to calm down.

"It's an opportunity, Kurt," Blaine told him.

"There's a chance," Brittany said encouragingly.

Kurt sighed and gave them both a grateful smile. "It just doesn't feel real."

"You don't know what's going to happen. I mean look at me." Brittany made a face. "I had no hope of graduating in February and now look, I'm getting there. It's not a sure thing, but people like Quinn and Santana gave me a chance and I have the possibility now."

Blaine nodded and seemed to understand exactly what she meant. "You've given yourself a chance. You're not sitting around and letting what happened with NYADA ruin anything. Everything happens for a reason. This could be what you're meant to do."

"And no matter what does happen, we're all here for you." Brittany squeezed his arm and smiled up at him.

"Thank you."

Blaine kissed Kurt's cheek and rested his head against his shoulder, while Brittany rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

"We're all getting out of here," she said. "One way or the other."

Blaine corrected, "Or _another_."

Kurt shook his head above her and said, "No, she was right. We all have 'the other' possibility. She found hers and then helped me find mine." He smiled at Blaine. "You had NYU instead of NYADA. She's right."

Brittany grinned and realized that Kurt really was one of her best friends. He never made her feel stupid and that was hard to come by at school. She wanted to help him realize his potential, because he'd helped her realize her future more than once. But more strictly on a relationship-wise basis. There was a reason she was the first person he told about not getting into NYADA; the same reason he was the first person she told about Santana. They understood each other.

"You've done what you could, Kurt," Brittany told him. "Now it's time to relax and let the rest of the year come and go."

Blaine clapped his hands together. "And we can start with prom."

Brittany sat up quickly and smiled as wide as her face would allow. "I can't wait for prom."

"I can," Kurt protested.

They both gave him disappointed looks and he put his hands up.

"Hey, you get voted prom queen when you're a guy and then tell me how to feel about prom."

Blaine peeked around Kurt and asked Brittany, "Is Santana running again this year?"

Brittany tapped her chin and tried to remember if they'd even discussed prom other than their dresses. She had been a tiny bit disappointed that Santana simply assumed they were going together, rather than asked her, but she realized prom wasn't something that had been all the big of a deal for either of them that year.

"I'm not sure," she said. "We haven't talked about it."

"Did she ask you," Kurt said with wide, dreamy eyes.

Brittany shook her head. "No, but we can't all be serenaded in invitation with a dozen roses during glee, can we?"

Blaine stared at his palms as he ran them together sheepishly, subtly proud of his recent performance. Kurt didn't seem to mind it all that much. The way his eyes twinkled when Brittany mentioned it proved that point well enough, anyway.

"She could at least ask."

Brittany frowned at Kurt and slapped his shoulder. "This is Santana we're talking about, Kurt. She doesn't do spectacles."

Blaine laughed for an unknown reason and Brittany teased him with a scowl too. She didn't understand why he smiled teasingly as well.

"I'm not talking like a skywriter," Brittany belabored. "Just a simple question would be nice."

Kurt shook his head at the two of them and lay back on his bed. Blaine followed him and Brittany rearranged herself next to Kurt on the opposite side. They were shoulder-to-shoulder-to-shoulder and all silently staring at the ceiling.

"I hope this prom goes better than last year," Brittany admitted.

Kurt nodded and Blaine smiled.

"There's no way it really couldn't."

"Unless someone sets the school on fire," Kurt commented.

They all laughed and wondered if anything could really be worse than the bleachers catching fire as a parade of students danced carelessly to whatever songs the glee club were forced to perform. Brittany couldn't agree with Blaine, because prom the year before had given her Santana, finally, after months of not knowing where they stood with each other. She couldn't imagine a prom better than that.

But she could still hope.

xx

Brittany's house was empty. She couldn't remember if her mom and dad said something about leaving before she went over Kurt's but they weren't there and hadn't even left a note. _'What if they went to dinner,_' she worried, touching her growling stomach. Without bothering to find something to eat, Brittany went from the kitchen to the living room and went up the stairs. It was almost six and she really couldn't imagine anything better on a Sunday than going to bed early. Santana said she was busy with something and Brittany hadn't thought to ask her what since she was in a hurry to get to Kurt's.

Opening her door, Brittany found out what Santana had been up to.

Her lights were off, a whirring box about the size of a brick in the corner projecting a glimmer effect onto the ceiling—it looked a lot like stars—and Santana was in the middle of her bed with a bag of takeout boxes and plates. There was a flannel blanket across her bed, Brittany guessed to not have the food directly on her covers.

Santana was in a navy sweater with a Marietta College logo on the front and dark skinny jeans. Her hair was curled down onto her shoulders and she grinned, relaxing after however long of a wait she'd had.

Brittany dropped her phone onto her desk and laughed in disbelief, not having to wonder what occasion they were celebrating, or in that case, preparing for.

"Yes," she said suddenly.

Santana's face fell and she hurriedly stood up from the bed.

"What?"

Brittany smiled and said firmly, again, "Yes."

Santana rubbed her forehead with one hand. "Come on, at least let me ask you before you do that."

Brittany practically bounced up and down. She wanted Santana to ask her, even if she'd convinced herself she could live without it actually happening. The least she could do was let her actually ask it,

"Well?"

Santana walked across the room and took her hand. "Come on."

She led Brittany over to the bed and once she kicked off her shoes, they both crawled to the center of the bed and surrounded the food. Santana didn't ask her, but started opening up the different Chinese food containers. Brittany counted and came up with four. She wanted to protest, but Santana must have been watching her and grabbed the egg rolls from the bottom of the bag.

Brittany smiled. _'5.'_

Santana laughed and made them both plates, giving Brittany hers first and then started eating her own.

After downing her egg roll in three bites, Brittany wiped her face and said, "You didn't do it yet."

Santana dropped her fork. "You're a pushy one, aren't ya?" She smirked and reached under Brittany's pillow. "Especially for someone who _'knows I don't do spectacles,_'" Santana teased.

Brittany felt her face go red and buried her face in a bite of chicken and broccoli. "That's why Blaine laughed…"

"I needed to get you out of the house and Kurt needed you anyways. Win-win." Santana gripped whatever was in her hand as she spoke and Brittany wanted to tackle her in anticipation.

"What is it," she asked.

Santana looked down into her hand and smiled. "Oh this?" She handed it to Brittany and watched as she took it, inspecting the tiny bottle.

Brittany rolled it over in her hand, reading the tiny inscription that read _'April 8, 2012.'_ Inside, sand filled the glass halfway up and a tiny roll of paper was wedged in the middle. She knew where the sand was from, even if she hadn't seen Santana gather it that Sunday before they met their mothers back at the restaurant.

"Santana…"

"You have to read what's inside of it," she whispered.

Brittany laughed and pulled the tiny, brown cork out of the bottle. She looked around in search of something to help her pull the paper out, but Santana beat her to it with a plastic fork and slid the note out and offered it to her from the palm of her hand.

Brittany took it and tugged at the tiny ribbon securing it closed. It unfurled in her hand and she used two fingers to spread it apart, revealing the note written in Santana's perfect cursive, _'Will you dance with me at prom?'_

For a long time, Brittany just gazed down at the tiny piece of paper. She couldn't believe she'd made fun of Santana for not wanting to make a scene, when she had a way of making the smallest gesture fill up an entire room. The starlit room with a multiple course meal had always been their idea of a perfect date—even if they never got the stars quite right—in a nutshell and Brittany knew nothing else would ever feel as special. Not even a plane writing her name in the sky.

Her food was long forgotten as she looked up and into Santana's delighted eyes. She loved her with any display of affection. The medium never mattered.

"I thought we could save the dancing for prom." Her sweet voice poured a longing that Brittany didn't understand; Santana acted like she could ever say no.

"Yes, Santana. Yes to dancing, and yes to prom."

Santana reached across their plates and cupped Brittany's cheek, smoothing the skin over with the pad of her thumb. She was admiring, and Brittany swooned with each added stroke. "We're going to do it right this year. I promise."

Brittany capped the bottle and set it down amongst their food. She needed to be closer to Santana with each vulnerable second. They were going to do it right, because they were doing it together.

"I love you," Brittany answered. She knew it would complete the conversation because it was the answer to everything with Santana.

Santana kissed her, passionately, and held onto her neck for the duration. Brittany slid in between Santana's legs and hooked her arms around her back, resting their bodies against each other.

Santana nuzzled the skin at her throat and pulled her close, the both of them holding each other desperately.

"There's something else, Britts," Santana said into her shoulder.

Brittany nodded against the side of Santana's head and kissed her cheek. "Hmm?"

"I think we should run together. For king and queen."

Brittany's heart stuttered and she sat up, resting her palms down on either side of Santana's waist. The vulnerability returned in her voice and Brittany wondered if that's what she had been concerned about the whole time. She didn't understand what the big deal was, other than her only question in rebuttal.

"Well, can I be king?"

Santana titled an eyebrow with a puzzled smile still on her lips. "Are you serious?"

Brittany frowned down at Santana's chest. "Why did you want to? I just think my dress would look so much cuter with a top hat."

Santana let out a shocked laugh and kissed her again. "You can run for king, Britts. That's wonderful actually. I was worried you'd make me."

Brittany made a "pfft" sound. "Yeah right, I totally top this relationship."

Santana tried to sit up from underneath and Brittany, struggling to overcome the bearing weight she had down on her in their position. Brittany giggled and forced her to stop.

"That's bull," Santana objected.

"Is it?" In demonstration, Brittany ground down into Santana's hips and smirked when nails dug into her back and kept her in place. She smirked. "Thought so."

Santana let out a breathy huff and shook her head. "Doesn't mean shit…" she mumbled.

Brittany raised one eyebrow and threatened Santana with a look.

Santana smiled innocently and pulled Brittany down into a kiss again. She nipped at her lips and breathed into them, "So you wanna make something of this situation or what?"

Brittany backed off entirely and sat up, picking her plate up off the bed. "Not really. I'm hungry."

Santana sat up with Brittany still between her legs and looked around incredulously. Brittany thought she looked like someone would come to her defense if she searched hard enough.

"You're lucky I love you."

"Why because I don't put out anymore," Brittany teased, chewing a large wad of rice.

"No, because you—did you eat my egg roll?" She grabbed at the empty plastic and looked downtrodden enough that Brittany almost felt bad.

"So what's your dress like?" Brittany deflected with a teasing smirk. She hoped there wasn't any evidence left over in her teeth, even though no one else could've eaten it.

Santana only huffed and picked her plate back up to continue eating.

'_Yeah, I'm definitely lucky she loves me.'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: To be continued. I'll try to have something for you soon, but no promises. **_  
><em>

**Also because someone asked about it last time, this story ideally has a sequel, but I'm not entirely sure if it will come right after this finishes. I have a few other ideas I've been playing around with, so the reality might be another story and then the sequel, but it's all up in the air right now. The plans for a sequel have been in my head for a while but like I said, it all comes down to what happens when I write the last chapter of this. The outlines been written for practically a month for the last couple chapters, but writing it is getting tedious lately. I will finish, though. That I can promise you :)  
><strong>

**Thanks for reading.  
><strong>


	57. you're my queen, only 17, we're in love

**A/N: This took long as hell to post because it is long as hell. Aren't I eloquent? No part three, but this is the conclusion of Prom. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope that some of you will review and let me know what you think of it. Whether good or bad, whatever, just give me all of your opinions! Have fun!  
><strong>

**I also have to give two shout outs. First to Breakdown6, who gave me an idea months ago and I don't think she has any idea what it was but it came out wonderfully. Second, I have to thank another dear friend who let me feed and feed him ideas until he came up with a set of lyrics that were exactly what I had in mind. So thank you for letting me bug you for hours and coming up with something I think is wonderful! Love you, B!  
><strong>

**************As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites.******** ******

**************Oh and Brittany's dress isn't what it was in the show. Sort of, but an alternative. Just so you know :)  
><strong>************

* * *

><p>Lying in her bed, Santana and Brittany were a mess of tangled limbs amidst the scattered sheets. Santana's mom had given them the okay about Brittany spending the night, on the Friday before prom, and they were content to simply fall asleep together given Quinn had put Brittany through another thorough study session. For them, the sensation of waking up together and going to school wasn't odd anymore, knowing that in a few months, that's how their lives would be going every day.<p>

The only confusing part, Santana thought, was that her parents, and Brittany's too, had given in to the fact of letting them spend nights together, unattended, doors closed. They were both eighteen, granted, but as Anna had let on when they finally announced their relationship, Santana figured the rules would be forever changed as long as they stayed at home. She didn't want to take advantage of anyone, but she still found the fact that her and Brittany got into bed together at night a little puzzling.

Often, she woke up first. Brittany usually _got_ up first, but she liked to relax for a long time in the morning, especially with Brittany curled around her. She surrounded her and Santana loved being able to back into the warmth of Brittany's stomach and feel content for as long as the morning would permit. Her alarm clock told her she'd have another hour of peaceful rest in that position, and she took the time to make a mental checklist that everything for the following night was ready.

She needed to double check _then_ because her night had been booked against her will. Rachel, in annoying fashion, had convinced all of the girls, including Kurt, to come over after school and spend the night at her house for what she claimed 'a bonding ritual.' She cited their differing futures as reason enough to spend one last night, with all the girls, watching movies and discussing plans for Prom.

Santana gave her weakest excuse for not going—saying that she wanted to be well rested—until Brittany and Quinn both talked her into it. They were excited, saying Rachel had a point, and that none of them would be as close when school ended. Grievously, Santana obliged and told Rachel they were going, even though she had almost no interest in it. All she wanted was to spend the night before prom with Brittany, getting excited about the day together, rather than sharing it with other people.

"_Those other people are our friends,"_ Brittany had said, securing the last nail in her coffin.

Rachel had the decency to not let her smile shine all the way through as she gave in against all of her wishes. Brittany, sensing how upset it made her, offered a trip to the nail salon after school, in exchange, before they went to Rachel's, but that was the only preparation they were doing together.

The next day, Santana knew, she had to pick up Brittany's corsage from the florist and Quinn was coming over at four to get ready. Around seven, the limo—Santana insisted that year they were going all out and in style—would pick them up, then Blaine and Sam, and then they would head to Rachel's for eight, getting her, Brittany, Kurt, and Mercedes before they went straight to McKinley.

Her dress was set, her shoes selected, and everything Santana could think of was going exactly the right way. For once, something out of her control, Prom, might go off without a hitch. Unless, like Brittany had jokingly relayed Kurt's suggestion, someone set the school on fire.

Santana looked at the clock again and saw a half hour had passed in her musings. She stretched her back muscles in the slightest bit to shake away some of her tiredness and was surprised to feel Brittany squirm behind her. Santana looked over her shoulder, the joints cracking as her neck twisted, and saw Brittany with her face scrunched together.

Her lips were pursed, her nose crinkled, and her forehead clenched in stress. About what, Santana couldn't tell, but she quickly turned against the arms circling her waist, thinking being crammed together might have been bothering Brittany while she slept. It hadn't ever happened before, but _'there's a first time for everything.'_

Instead of fixing the problem, Brittany's pout grew even further. Santana smirked, wondering if she was awake and trying to pull some prank.

"Britt," she whispered in a sing-song voice. All she earned was a dense groan and Santana decided she had to be asleep. Even in her best productions, Brittany couldn't pull off that husky tiredness in such a believable way.

She hooked one hand around Brittany's neck, letting her fingers graze the tender skin, and scooted forward until she could lay their heads together, enough that her lips were ghosting along the outside of her ear. Brittany twitched, but didn't wake, even as Santana rested more pressure down on her temple.

It felt like months had passed since she'd gotten the opportunity to sing something to Brittany while she slept, and Santana wanted to seize it as a way to relieve her distress. A few bars had relaxed Brittany from nightmares when they were younger and Santana decided that trying it while she still slept might have a favorable outcome too.

She tried to think what song would please Brittany the most, and then decidedly settled on her own. She knew for a fact that Brittany adored it; it's not like they hadn't discussed it at great length before she sent it in as her audition. Brittany actually had it on her iPod, and tried to embarrass Santana by playing it in the car with their friends. But Santana knew she just wanted an excuse to hear it again, knowing that for the two of them it meant something special.

She sang softly into Brittany's ear:

_I was so scared of who I am_

_You finally let me see_

_You're all, you're only_

_You're light, you're lonely_

_The one that set me free_

Her voice drifted between them; quiet enough that someone across the room couldn't hear her if they tried.

Brittany lifted her head enough to nuzzle against Santana's cheek. She was smiling, Santana could see, but her eyes were still shut in the peaceful haze of the morning. One of her hands skimmed skin at the small of Santana's back and she shuddered, trying to not let it break her voice:

_It never crossed my mind_

_That we were doing wrong_

_And the way you hold me in your arms_

_I never felt that strong_

Brittany hummed along, more awake, and kissed Santana's neck as she continued. When Brittany pushed up against her, trying to see her face, she stopped singing and smiled down at her.

Brittany was beautiful; gorgeous in any light, any color, any moment. Her smile shined a spotlight on Santana's heart in a way that she knew no one else ever would. But, they were a manifold set, amenable to what the other needed in any situation. She was Brittany's light as much as Brittany was hers.

In the first few minutes of the day, when they woke up and didn't need anything, they could simply exist together.

"You should write me another song," Brittany whispered.

"Is that one not good enough?"

Brittany leaned up and kissed her. Her mouth was warm and pliant, still not entirely awake. Santana let out a sigh of contentment against her lips.

"No, it's perfect," she mumbled. "I just want to know what else you think about me."

Santana rested her forehead on Brittany's chin and kissed her throat, just barely touching it. "Horrible, _awful_ things."

A laugh echoed in Brittany's chest and she smiled, loving the way it sounded that close. Santana could almost hear the breaths entering and exiting her lungs in the silence of the room.

"I said what you _think_ about me, not what you want to _do_ to me."

"Maybe it's the same thing," Santana teased.

"Please don't write a song about our sex life," Brittany begged. Santana could hear her stifling another laugh and sat up.

"I won't." She kissed her again. "We should get ready. We have practice this morning. And you have to see Mr. Ferguson about your history test."

Brittany rolled out from under her and sat up against the headboard of Santana's bed. "How didn't I know you could make test corrections for his class until just now? That would have made this so much easier."

"If you knew, would you have actually done them?"

Brittany tipped her head from side to side in deliberation. Her hair fell across her shoulders and Santana couldn't help but lean forward and kiss the skin above her exposed collarbone. Brittany shivered and grabbed onto her neck, fingernails digging into the skin. She giggled and pushed her away after a minute of light bites and flicks of Santana's tongue.

"Probably not," she answered.

Santana laughed. She tucked her hand beneath Brittany's and flipped it over, weaving their fingers together. Brittany stared down at them, entranced by the touch.

"Are you excited for prom," Santana asked. They hadn't talked all that much about it during the week, both busy getting ready for a Cheerio's competition and focusing on school work.

Brittany's eyes lit up and she bounced the tiniest bit on the bed. "I can't wait."

"I can't wait for you to see my dress. It's hot." Santana made a show of brushing off her shoulder and Brittany shook her head.

"Well, duh, it's you. Mine's totally better though."

Santana flicked her knee. "You think?"

Brittany flicked her back on the shoulder. "It totally is."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Brittany grinned and Santana thought she might actually be beat. "Guess so."

The alarm clock on her side table went off and they both groaned at it in unison. What the hell was the use of it if they were always up before it anyway? She had half a mind to throw it out the window, but Brittany shut it off in time to suppress the temptation.

"C'mon." Santana stood from the bed and stretched her arms above her head. As Brittany got to her feet, she tickled the skin stretching had revealed beneath Santana's tanktop as she went by and into the bathroom.

Santana didn't waste any time and followed her with an excited smile. Showering together saved a _few_ extra minutes.

* * *

><p>Rachel flurried around her basement in anxious anticipation of everyone's arrival. She didn't know who exactly would show up—even if Mercedes and Tina <em>said<em> they would, it didn't exactly mean anything—and wanted everything to look perfect. Quinn was on the couch, doing some of her leg exercises and watching Rachel go around and fill chip bowls and adjusting the stereo to a more popular station. Rachel drove them to her house after school and they spent most of the afternoon apart, while Quinn caught up on homework and Rachel started her preparations.

Rachel went towards the couch with a handful of water bottles, hoping they wouldn't go to waste. She had just put drinks on the coffee table when Quinn tugged her onto her lap.

"Quinn, I'm not done."

Quinn reached up and tucked hair behind her ear which sent a chill down her spine. She hadn't realized how much she missed having that in her life; someone who made her feel that perfect with a simple touch.

"I need to ask you some stuff before everyone gets here," Quinn objected. Her smile was luminescent in the dim light of the basement. Rachel remembered she needed to flick the lights back on when they were finished.

She relaxed and scooted off Quinn's lap to the couch, but left her bare legs against the material of Quinn's jeans. Jeans weren't Quinn's favorite, but Rachel knew being in the chair hadn't given her much of a choice in modest clothing.

"Okay."

Quinn put a hand on her thigh and kept their eye contact. It was serious, and Rachel knew what it would be about before she started talking.

"How is tonight going to go for _us_?"

The emphasis wasn't lost on Rachel's understanding.

"How do you want it to go?"

Quinn gave her a look and she smirked, expecting nothing less.

She added, "They all pretty much know about us. It won't be a huge deal if we get it out of the way and simply tell them."

"Except for Mercedes," Quinn said. "She doesn't know. Unless Kurt said something."

Rachel blushed, knowing she was responsible for unsubtly clueing him into their past relationship. It wasn't her fault she was pining.

_Sort of,_ she thought.

"I think we should tell them. But I won't make the decision by myself."

Quinn seemed to loll the idea around her head for a minute but she finally sighed in agreement. "So do I. We should tell them, we're all going together anyways."

Rachel shook her head. "Nope. Tina and Mike are going with Artie. They wanted to make sure he didn't have to go by himself."

Quinn frowned. "That poor guy."

Rachel shrugged. A lot of their friends were going single to prom that year; they weren't responsible for feeling bad for them. She was just glad to go with her perfect date.

Quinn rubbed Rachel's thigh and grabbed her attention again. "I wanted to also make sure you are okay about Puck tomorrow."

"We already discussed it." Rachel wasn't entirely open to the idea when Quinn first brought it up, but she had been so persuasive and guilty about it as she explained that Rachel couldn't find it in herself to be upset.

"But are you okay with it? You never really gave me an answer, other than a nod."

"That didn't seem to stop you from campaigning. You acted like you had an answer." She didn't say it in agitation, but Quinn appeared to have taken it that way.

She grabbed Rachel by the waist and tugged her back into her lap. Rachel chuckled and put her hands on Quinn's shoulders to steady herself. They were face to face and Quinn smiled forlornly.

"I won't do it if it'll make you upset."

Rachel picked up one hand and ran her fingers through Quinn's hair. "I'm not upset. I just don't understand what the big deal is."

Quinn dropped her head and stared at the tan material of the couch, almost in shame.

Rachel titled her head back up gently and smiled. "I'm not making fun of you. I just need…an explanation or something. Make me understand."

Quinn looked back and forth between her eyes and tried to smile, but it didn't convince Rachel of much. "It's just the only thing I have left to do right."

Rachel furrowed her brow. "What did you do wrong?"

"No, that's not—it's like…" Quinn struggled for a moment and Rachel went back to playing with her hair to help her relax. It was obviously a bigger deal than she thought. "I got pregnant."

"Yeah?" Rachel almost laughed.

Quinn saw it and smirked, pinching her. "I wasn't finished."

Rachel bit her lip and motioned for her to go on.

"I got pregnant, and then I got kicked out, and I made you break up with me, and then I quit everything and dyed my hair. Nothing has ever gone right. Like, I lost last year. To Kurt. _Kurt._"

"That wasn't your fault. Everyone at our school is a moron."

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "That's not it. Nothing has ever just gone the right way. Short of you wanting to be with me again, nothing ever got better. But being prom queen has been my dream since I was old enough to touch my mother's crown. You know what it's like to have a goal; this is mine. And I can't help but feel like I _need_ it."

Rachel thought it over and didn't know if she could make the connection Quinn had. If Quinn said that she wanted the crown to prove she was still popular, that would make sense, but that she just wanted it because she never had it didn't seem to be a big deal. At least to Rachel.

"Are you sure you don't want to still feel like everyone looks up to you and remember you as the most perfect girl in high school?" Rachel didn't know how else to phrase it without making it slightly condescending.

Luckily, Quinn didn't take it that way. She shrugged. "No, because I don't care about being popular."

"That makes one of us," Rachel said, a little bitterly.

Quinn gave her a sad smile. "Don't say that. You don't need this overblown election to know how perfect you are."

"Why?"

"Because you're already better than any of the losers in that school. You're wonderful and talented and you're going to make it bigger than any of us could ever hope to."

She sighed. "I wish someone would tell them that. It doesn't do much for my ego when I'm seventeen and still getting slushie tossed in my face."

Quinn straightened her shoulders and glared. "I swear when I'm walking again, each and every one of those meatheads is getting my fist to their face."

"That sounds like something I'd like to see," Rachel joked, winking at her. She wouldn't let anyone come within five feet of Quinn in any aggressive manner for the rest of their lives after what happened, but it didn't help to humor her. "I don't think it'll get anything done, though. They wouldn't leave me alone for something short of a miracle."

Quinn studied her thoughtfully for a minute, putting her a little on the spot and she had to glance away from how bold of a gaze it was. She tried to look back and smile, but Quinn had already moved on from whatever trance she was in and held a softened expression.

"So you're alright with it?"

"As long as Noah doesn't get any ideas," Rachel said. Quinn started to laugh but when she saw how serious she was, stopped and nodded innocently.

"Got it," she answered. "He'd get a kick in the balls from me anyway."

Rachel shook her head. "So tough." She put her hands on the arm of the couch and picked herself up. She didn't get very far before Quinn was pulling her back down and she almost growled in protest. Getting pushed and pulled around wasn't exactly her idea of a good time, especially when she had to finish setting up for the sleepover.

Out of the blue, Quinn kissed her and she didn't care about any of it anymore. She could have gotten up right then and locked the basement door if it wouldn't have attracted her fathers' attention. Her hands locked onto Quinn's neck and she started to kiss back, eagerly making up for all the time they'd lost talking. _Why didn't we do this all afternoon,_ she thought when Quinn's hand went under her t-shirt.

"Oh for fucks sake." A voice startled them apart and Rachel almost fell off Quinn's lap to the floor. A hand on her back steadied her and she glanced to the stairs where Brittany and Santana were coming off the bottom step. Santana had her arms crossed and she was glaring.

"I didn't come here for a show," she threw at them. "I could have stayed home and gotten my own action if I knew this is what we signed up for."

Brittany waved once from next to Santana and winked at Rachel. She relaxed, remembering that Santana wasn't a threat to her anymore, and stood up from Quinn's lap.

"Your dads let us in," Brittany said, surveying the selection of chips and pretzels on the counter of the bar. She went over and scooped up a handful of trail mix Rachel made the night before. "Sweet."

Rachel smiled across the room at Quinn as she smoothed down her hair and gave her a thumbs up. She hoped the night would go well, and with Quinn by her side, she expected nothing less than perfection.

She walked to the bottom of the steps and heard voices coming through her kitchen. Her friends actually showed up and she couldn't contain her excitement. In a swift motion, she flicked on the lights and the room lit up as footsteps descended the stairs.

xx

"It's nice to be sober here for once," Tina said as they crowded around the coffee table to play cards. They all laughed as Rachel dealt out the cards for rummy, the table being adjusted for her, Brittany, and Mercedes to fit against the couch.

Santana picked up her water bottle and held it out in a fake cheer. "Speak for yourself." Brittany kicked her under the table and she yelped. "Shit! Abuse, Britts."

"Be nice," Brittany threatened.

She threw her hands up in protest and thought she heard a light whipping sound come from Kurt's direction. Not wanting another kick, she ignored it and took a drink. She'd been good for the whole night; Berry hadn't pissed her off once. They were all actually having a good time.

There was a tiny dip in the fun when Quinn announced she and Rachel were going to prom together. Particularly because all of them pretty much shrugged in response besides Mercedes, not in any way surprised.

"_About time,"_ Tina had mumbled loud enough for them all to hear. It sent a cacophony of laughter around the group and by that time Kurt had filled Mercedes in with enough to accept they weren't screwing with her.

All in all, Santana thought Quinn looked pretty relieved by it all. And Rachel seemed pleased enough that she could sit in Quinn's lap for truth or dare. She was happy for the two of them to have one night of peace, because prom the next night wouldn't go that easily for the two of them; she knew Finn alone was going to have a coronary.

But other than that, Santana didn't regret being forced to go. After they got done playing cards—which Santana won by almost a hundred points, Quinn behind her in second—Rachel excused herself to the bathroom and Mercedes and Tina turned up the music to dance. Kurt laughed at them until Brittany took his hand and pulled him up to join her in a dance.

Quinn looked on fondly, but Santana noticed a little sad. It was to be expected. She couldn't imagine the possibility of not having a dance with Brittany on their senior prom; it had to suck.

"Quinn."

Quinn turned to her with a latent frown and perked up with an intake of breath. "Yeah?"

"Is there a bathroom down here or what?"

She shook her head. "No, it's upstairs. You'll probably see Rachel on the way back. She can help you."

"Thanks."

Santana gave her a pat on the thigh and got up from the couch and went towards the stairs. Brittany intercepted her halfway across the basement and pressed both palms to her hips.

"Wanna dance with me?" Her voice dipped low and she almost purred the request.

Santana held onto her arms and swayed her back and forth. "I have to pee."

Brittany leaned into her neck and kissed the skin there, lightly hugging their bodies together. "When you get back, then."

"Sure."

Brittany let her go and smiled, giving her a pat on the butt when she walked away. She grinned, the jolt speeding her up a bit.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she pushed open the door and found both of Rachel's dads sitting at the dining table, drinking coffee and watching a TV hung on the wall. Leroy wasn't a new face but Hiram she'd only heard around corners during the month she spent at the Berry's earlier that year. He reminded her a lot more of Rachel than Leroy did and she figured his genetics must have been the ones passed on to her. It was weird to have that kind of revelation when she just saw someone for the first time.

Before she could sneak past, they both turned on her and were a little surprised to see her standing there. Hiram smiled immediately and Santana knew without a doubt Rachel was his kid. Leroy was unimpressed at her appearance and looked like he wanted to grumble.

Hiram beat him to it though. "Can we help with something, sweetie?"

Santana almost turned around to see if someone was standing behind her, his kindness had caught her that off guard.

"Uh…"

"Are you looking for Rachel," he asked quickly. His words were pouring out faster than she could interject.

"No, I was going to the—"

"Cause she went out back a few minutes ago. She didn't say much."

'_Out back?'_ she wondered. "Yeah, I was looking for her." She lied when curiosity got the better of her.

"Through there," Leroy said. He pointed past her shoulder to a screen door leading outside. There was a light on and she hoped Rachel hadn't employed her fathers in some ploy to lock her out of the house. It would be _such_ a fun story to tell the next night.

Santana nodded and followed the direction, twisting the door knob and letting herself out. She didn't have to look far for Rachel, who was sitting on the wooden steps outside the door that led down to the deck. Her head whipped around when the door slammed shut and she put a hand over her chest.

"Shit, you scared me."

"What are you doing?"

Rachel kept her eyes on Santana for a second and then looked back out into the yard. The Berry's kept an immaculate house and the backyard wasn't an exception. With its in-ground pool and vegetable garden it rivaled Santana's in appearance, but didn't beat Quinn's. There was a mess of lights lit up through the trees and casting shadows all across the fresh grass. Spring had come late in April but the air was already warm like summer.

Santana walked down the steps and sat on the one above Rachel, who kept silent even as she got closer. She still had to pee, but something was obviously going on and she felt the need to investigate.

"You good?"

Rachel shrugged and left it at that for a moment. Then she glanced at Santana and nodded. "Yeah. I'm just overreacting."

"At least you're acknowledging it."

Rachel glared for a half a second and she rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't insulting you. I just meant at least you didn't make a deal in front of people. The storm-outs get a little old."

"You're right. That doesn't sound like an insult at all," Rachel said mockingly.

"Well that part was," she teased.

Rachel let out a little chuckle and she smiled.

"Look, I know what it's like to freak about stupid stuff." Rachel nodded and Santana shoved her. "Tell me, midget."

Rachel sighed largely and threw her head back in defeat. "It's so _stupid._" Her head snapped forward and she turned around halfway on the step to face her. "Do you think it's bad if I don't want Quinn to win tomorrow?"

Instant reaction, Santana replied, "Yes."

"Santana!"

"What? I'm not gonna lie to you."

Rachel bit her cheek and shook her head in frustration.

Santana could see that it wasn't just a petty, jealous deal, but she actually didn't want Quinn to win. "Why not," she asked.

"Because she doesn't need it!"

"She thinks she does."

"Do you understand her?" Rachel was pleading. She wanted to figure it out desperately and Santana wished she had an answer.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess. It's just Quinn, Rachel. That's how she's always been about it."

Rachel looked away and huffed. "She's always going to want popularity over me."

"That's shit and you know it," Santana retorted.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. She's fucking going to prom with you. Shit is gonna hit the fan tomorrow when you two walk in together."

The moment got quiet as Santana guessed Rachel was thinking that over. She wanted to get up because even if it was warm out, the light breeze wasn't helping her having to pee.

"It'll be okay right?"

Santana shrugged even though she couldn't see it. "Who knows."

"That's comforting."

"It's the _truth._ It'll be fine, Rachel. We're all gonna be together. Nothing _that _bad will happen."

Rachel sighed and stood up from the step. She brushed off her skirt and Santana hoisted herself up by the railing. "Thanks."

"Ugh, will you tell me where your friggin bathroom is now? I have to pee like a motherfucker."

Rachel unexpectedly burst out in laughter, holding her stomach with one hand.

"What?" Santana demanded.

"You try so hard to be a badass after you are sweet to me. It's endearing."

Santana snorted in good humor. "I could always kill you and bury you back here."

"Quinn would notice after a while."

"Mm, maybe," Santana teased. They shared a smile and Rachel went past her into the house. Santana followed inside.

"Go through the hallway, it's the first door on the right."

"Thanks, Berry."

Santana was glad she didn't have to walk past the Berry's again since they weren't at the kitchen table and she left to go to the bathroom. Rachel went back downstairs and Santana heard the girls downstairs shout when she must have reappeared.

Being upstairs for a minute gave Santana time to think about Rachel said. She and Quinn both were running for prom queen, exactly like they had last year, but to her it didn't matter whether or not _she_ won. Sure, having Brittany win king and her be queen would make her strangely happy considering half the school still gave them dirty looks, but she didn't _need_ it.

Quinn did. She always had.

It wasn't something she'd ever exactly understood but it also wasn't something she regularly questioned. From the beginning of high school Quinn had to be homecoming queen. When she won those, she knew prom queen was next. That was just who she was, and Santana knew that.

Until Rachel came into the picture, it didn't seem like anything else would make her happy. But shouldn't she have been over it by then? Quinn wasn't at the bottom of the heap. She dominated the school from her wheelchair. People were _still_ intimidated by her, like they always had been. The girl who got pregnant and fell from grace rose again, Santana thought, a second coming. She could probably win from sympathy alone.

The person who really needed it was Rachel. Neither of them saw it, but Santana did. If Rachel could feel for one minute what it was to have everyone see her at the head of the pack, she would understand what Quinn wanted from it all. And maybe Quinn would see that her satisfaction wasn't the issue anymore, but Rachel's was.

As Santana washed her hands in the metallic bowl of the sink, she wondered, if explained, would Quinn think that was a good idea? Her instinct said that Quinn would do anything for Rachel, but she had to be sure.

She pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and opened a new message to Quinn.

**(8:39 PM): **We need to talk tomorrow. Remind me.

She left the bathroom and made her way back into the basement. Halfway down the stairs she caught sight of Quinn putting her phone away at the same time her phone buzzed.

**(8:40 PM) Quinn:** k

Santana rolled her eyes, but Brittany was already on her way over to the bottom of the steps with an excited glint in her smile.

"Ready to dance?"

"Of course."

xx

At midnight, Rachel, Mercedes, Tina, and Quinn were all passed out on the floor—Quinn was on the couch—and that left Kurt, Brittany, and Santana lying across the stage. They were all in various states of tiredness, Brittany the most awake, Santana the least. Kurt could have gone either way but with Brittany's excitement for the next day, he stayed awake. Santana didn't want to fall asleep without snuggling up to Brittany and fought the best she could.

Brittany didn't want to sleep. She wanted time to shoot forward until they were all dressed and on the way to Prom. She wanted to dance, she wanted to win prom court, but she mostly wanted to dance. Especially with Santana.

Memories of the year before flooded her mind and she frowned at the Berry's ceiling. Senior prom wouldn't be anything like junior prom. She wouldn't let it.

Kurt started giggling at nothing.

Brittany turned to him questioningly and when she didn't get an answer, just joined in.

They chuckled, and laughed, and giggled until Santana couldn't help but do it too. They were all in a fit of hysterics until a pillow soared across the room and struck Kurt in the face. He and Brittany sat up and saw Rachel glaring across the room.

"Go to bed," she commanded.

Kurt tossed the pillow back and it accidentally hit Quinn in the head. She sprung forward awake and Rachel had to catch her from falling off the couch.

That only made them laugh harder. But when Brittany opened her eyes wide enough to see Tina and Mercedes were staring them down too, she tried her best to quiet down. Santana was still guffawing at the expression on Quinn's face and earned a middle finger from her best friend. Kurt laughed at that and Mercedes raised a finger in scolding, to which he bit his lip. Brittany pinched Santana lightly on the thigh and she stopped, lying back down into her side.

Heads fell all around the room and Brittany finally lay down. Kurt was already asleep by the time she put her head on Santana's pillow and she smirked, tossing a thumb back to show Santana.

Santana rolled her eyes and yawned; Brittany could tell how tired she was and decided they might as well fall asleep. She huddled close to Santana's front as she threw a blanket across them—and Kurt because it was big enough and he didn't think of it before he fell asleep—grabbing onto her waist and hoisting their bodies together.

Brittany snuggled into Santana's chest and closed her eyes, breathing in her favorite scent. Santana's nose was on her shoulder and she could feel her body loosening out and relaxing.

Before she forgot, Brittany whispered into the air, "I can't wait for tomorrow, S."

Santana mumbled into her arm, "Me either, Britt."

"I love you."

Santana kissed her cheek and then resettled herself on Brittany's shoulder. "Mm, you too, babe."

* * *

><p>Maria had a hard time letting her and Quinn out of the house when the limo got there. It was seven-thirty and they needed to get to Sam's house because Quinn had reassured her if they got to Rachel's any later than eight exactly, she'd have a fit; Santana didn't have any doubts about it.<p>

"Mama, the dress hasn't changed since the first twelve pictures you got. We have to go."

Maria hugged the both of them one more time and tried to stop crying. "It's just so wonderful. Please tell me someone is going to get photos of you and Brittany. I need them."

Quinn cut in, "I'm sure the Berry's will be taking lots of pictures. If I know Hiram anyway." She smiled at her own joke and Santana took that break in conversation to guide Quinn's wheelchair through the door that had been open for the last five minutes.

"Alright," Maria yelled towards them as they left, "Have fun! Don't get into trouble! Tell Brittany I love her, mija!"

"Got it, mom!" The driver got out when Santana tapped on the glass and she motioned to Quinn. "Can you pop the trunk? I can take care of it if you just do that."

He nodded and got back into the car. A moment later there was a click and the trunk popped open. Once Quinn climbed from the chair to the limo, Santana collapsed it and tossed it in the trunk. She waved one more time to her mom, slid into the seat, and closed the door.

"All set," Quinn asked her, rifling through her purse and making sure she had the tickets.

Santana did the same, checked for her phone, extra cash, and then snapped her purse shut. "Yup."

The driver lowered the divider between them and the front of the limo and asked, "Good to go."

"Yes sir," Quinn said, grinning up at him. And they were off.

Twenty minutes later, after they picked up Blaine and Sam, the four of them were comparing corsages and in Blaine's case a boutineer. Brittany's was white with a black ribbon, because Santana didn't have much of a color scheme to go off of, Rachel's a yellow flower and pink ribbon, Mercedes' was orange, and Kurt's boutineer white. They all traded each other compliments on the way to Rachel's as a way to relieve the anxiety each of them felt about seeing their dates.

Santana felt her stomach knot up as they turned onto Rachel's street. She wanted to puke. Or cry. Or something like that. It must have been noticeable because Sam grabbed her hand on the seat and whispered, "Relax."

She grinned, full and explosive. Three houses away felt like too many. Two left her digging her nails into the back of Sam's hand.

In front of Rachel's, she let out an exhausted puff of air. Sam extracted his hand before she could do any permanent damage.

Blaine, closest to the door, glanced back at all of them with a smirk. "Ready?"

"For Christ's sake, get out of the car!" Santana pushed Sam, which moved Blaine into the door and it opened out onto the driveway.

The driver opened the trunk and Santana took it out and set it up in front of the door. She helped Quinn out, while the boys waited patiently, and then they were all headed up the paved walkway to the front door. Because it was Rachel's house, they all made Quinn knock. She glared at them as Santana pushed her forward onto the welcome mat and they all gave her a timid smile.

Quinn took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, a lock turned on the other side of the wood and it opened. Quickly revealed as the daylight streamed into the entryway of the Berry's residence, Rachel smiled brightly at all of them before her gaze fell directly on Quinn.

If she had been on her feet, Rachel would have sent Quinn stumbling backwards. Her blush-colored dress flowed all the way down to the floor in layers, strapless and a perfect fit against her body. Her hair was down, straightened but in waves that went past her shoulders. Quinn couldn't believe her eyes at the gorgeous girl standing in front of her.

Santana didn't have a chance to see Rachel, because Brittany took up the spot beside her radiantly. Lime green from her waist down to the floor, she twirled in the Berry's foyer, exposing the sheen of her dress. The top, fitted tight against the curves of her torso, was a backless, black vest in resemblance of a tuxedo, white piping up the lapels. It dipped in a low V, showing an expanse of skin Santana found herself struggling to look away from. The two parts flowed seamlessly into each other, a white ribbon tied in a tiny bow at the center marking the division between them, and she looked elegant. Straight, blonde hair fell on Brittany's bare shoulders, flawless skin open for the eye to take in and Santana did so gladly as the time passed in her admiration.

Brittany would be the perfect king, sexy as hell in her little, white top hat.

"You're so hot," Santana muttered.

"You're perfect," Quinn said at the same time.

Brittany and Rachel gave each other a look and they walked backwards into the house, letting everyone in. Blaine helped Quinn in and they shut the door behind them.

"Where's Kurt," he asked.

Brittany already had her hands around Santana's waist when she answered, "They're putting final touches on his hair." Santana kissed her impatiently, wanting nothing more than to just taste her after a whole day apart. They weren't ever doing that again. Even when they got married; they would have to visit each other at least three times in between getting ready. Probably more.

Hiram and Leroy came from the kitchen into the hallway with smiles for all of them, Santana included for once. Hiram was taking pictures as they talked and Rachel fumbled with Quinn's corsage.

Santana took hers out of the box and slid into onto Brittany's wrist, Brittany doing the same with the one she bought; it was white with a red ribbon, and Santana suspected Brittany either knew her motives or someone tipped her off. Her eyes sparkled as they kept in their own bubble while Kurt and Mercedes finally descended the stairs. There was a struggle with the boutineers and then everyone was set.

"Let me get two group pictures out on the lawn," Hiram instructed, ushering them all out of the house.

Brittany had to lead Santana out as she was still fixated on her and hadn't let a moment pass without trying to keep eye contact. She couldn't help it. Her head kept saying how lucky she was to have Brittany, and that she could take her to prom as her date. The night wouldn't get going fast enough.

The two of them chose a more traditional pose, with Brittany behind Santana and her arms wrapped around her stomach, hands folded. Rachel got in Quinn's lap—her dads already knew everything—and had both arms around her neck, Quinn's hands on her waist and thigh to keep her in place. Sam and Mercedes were much like she and Brittany, him behind holding her. Kurt and Blaine chose to keep their arms around each other's waists, their heads turned towards the camera.

"Alright. Ready? Smile!" Leroy stepped behind Hiram as he took the first picture and put a hand on his shoulder. Hiram checked the display and gave the kids a thumbs up. He got ready for another one and held up his hand to get their attention.

"Berry," Santana called to Rachel from the opposite end of the lineup. "Make sure I get copies of these."

"Don't worry, they'll have copies for everybody," Rachel commented. "Yours might even be free."

Everyone laughed except for Santana who rolled her eyes and Hiram took two more pictures of them, getting one more of everyone candidly.

Amongst the mess of people and chaos as everyone spoke to each other, Santana held Brittany's gaze. Brittany smiled after a day filled of frantic preparation, happy to share the final result with her.

"You look so wonderful," Brittany told her.

"You look better."

Brittany laughed and shook her head. "There's no way."

"You're absolutely the most beautiful girl I've seen in my whole life."

The words caught up in Brittany's throat and she felt her cheeks go red. She couldn't take that compliment in a crowd of their friends.

Santana pecked her cheek innocently and grinned.

She turned away from Brittany and announced, "We should get going."

Everyone nodded and they all made sure they had their things.

"Have fun! Be safe! Don't get the driver drunk!" Rachel's dads waved from the front step as they all turned towards the limo.

Rachel rolled Quinn down the walkway and helped her into the seat while everyone waited. Sam collapsed the chair and put it in the trunk that was still partly open while Santana and Brittany followed Rachel into the limo and scooted down the side bench of seats. They were closest to the front visor and got comfortable together on the seat.

Once everyone was in, Santana said through the divider to the guy driving them, "Good to go." He smiled back at her and put the visor up.

In a minute, the limo's engine groaned to life and they were off to school. For the most part, everyone kind of spent the ride talking to their dates. Mercedes threw out compliments to Quinn and Blaine who were already wrapped around Kurt and Rachel.

While conversation mingled, Santana and Brittany kind of got lost in each other at the front of the car. Santana put her hand in Brittany's lap, lacing their fingers together, trying to show how excited she was. Brittany didn't have to try; she was talking a mile a minute about all the songs she wanted to hear and that the prom committee better have taken the direction she started in student council.

At one point, Kurt slipped into their conversation about the decorations he saw coming out of school the day before and Brittany was delighted that the theme was exactly what she wanted.

None of them, except Kurt, were given specific details about the theme, and Brittany was happy that they were all going to be surprised. Even the tickets didn't give away the theme, which she said was at her request. Studying, Cheerio's, and glee didn't give her much of an opportunity to participate in decorations or fundraising, but none of the other kids could go above her head with an idea. That was the least she could contribute to them.

Santana wondered what it would be, knowing that Brittany wouldn't have chosen something ordinary.

* * *

><p>Rachel seemed confused. Everyone, actually, looked pretty confused. Except Santana; she was laughing and clapping.<p>

"It's…dinosaurs?" Rachel asked. Brittany could hear her trying to not be rude and shrugged. From her point at the entrance to the gym, she could see Mike, Tina, Artie, Sugar, and Rory already dancing, surrounded by a clutter of other students.

"This is great," Santana said, keeping their hands locked together. Brittany smiled at her and pulled her along, racing to the center of the dance floor.

Mr. Schuester was manning a sound system at the side of the stage with Emma and was a masterful DJ. The New Directions weren't set to go on until eight thirty, and he provided the music in the meantime. The song at the moment was something popular and fast—Brittany put her hands in Santana's and spun her towards the dance floor, not letting another minute go to waste.

Their friends followed and took up all the area around them, minus Finn and Puck who were nowhere to be seen yet. Brittany grabbed Santana by the hips and turned her around, gluing their bodies together. In the web of the other dancers, Principal Figgins and Sue wouldn't even get a chance to see them getting a lot friendlier than would be acceptable by school's definition.

Santana swayed against her, dragging her hips across the front of Brittany's dress. She let out a stream of air and turned her back around, linking both hands around her neck and dragging her close. Santana followed her by holding Brittany with open palms on her back. The music felt somehow louder, the nearer they were.

"I hope the songs stay fast," she breathed into Santana's ear as they moved. Slow dancing wasn't dreadful but she'd much rather have Santana grinding against her.

"Me too," Santana groaned, twirling her around. In a second she was out, spinning, and then pulled back into Santana's looped arms.

The night was going to be wonderful.

A catcall sounded out behind Brittany's head and she rolled her eyes expecting some jock to be standing there watching them like a pervert. When she turned Santana round, they saw it was Puck, with his hands on his waist smirking at them.

"Get outta here, Puckerman," Santana threatened, turning out of Brittany's grasp.

"I'm just admiring the view." He whistled. "Tickets to this show were a bargain."

Santana went forward and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could and Brittany saw him flinch away in pain.

"Say anything again and I'll kick you in the nuts." Brittany laughed, seeing the grin accompanying her threat. They weren't there to fight; they were having a good time for once.

Puck grimaced and shook his head in laughter, until he looked past them and went white in the face. Brittany followed his line of sight backwards and saw Finn standing across the room, incensed, watching Rachel in Quinn's lap off the dance floor. They were at a table, joking and laughing, completely unaware of their ex standing not twenty feet away, watching them and putting the pieces together.

_He _was there to fight.

xx

"What the hell?"

Quinn had to grab Rachel to keep her from falling to the ground at Finn's outburst. He was within a foot and she never cursed her car wreck more than when she couldn't stand up and defend them.

He was shouting almost as loud as the year before when he confronted Jesse and Quinn could feel the discomfort rolling off of Rachel. The girl was horrified by him and she held her tighter to ease the anxiety.

"This is a joke, right?" He stood there looking back and forth between them with a plea for one of them to give him an explanation. Rachel wasn't talking.

In a second, Puck and Santana were upon them, standing between Finn and them. Puck put a hand on his chest to ease him backwards but he didn't move far. They were all standing there, waiting for someone to say something.

"I'm with Quinn," Rachel finally stated. She stood up and moved beside Quinn, reaching down for her hand. "She's the other person."

Quinn took it and held it firmly to show Finn that Rachel wasn't kidding. They were coming out, starting with Finn. It felt surprisingly good.

A crowd of onlookers surrounded them as the shouting drew more and more attention. He pushed against Puck and yelled, "This is crap! She's doing this to mess with you, Rachel. Can't you see that?"

"You need to stop," Quinn said. She wanted to hit him. If she were a guy that's what would have happened; she would have dropped him in a second if he came into her face like that.

"Let it go," Puck told Finn, wrestling him backwards.

"Finn, I'm sorry." Rachel stepped forward out of Quinn's reach and tried to reason with him. He stumbled forward to shrug off Puck and she leaped back, scared of him.

He frowned at her, looking a little hurt, and Quinn thought it was because he had terrified her. She didn't feel sorry because it was his own fault.

"She's doing this for something. That's how she works." Finn directed his hand up and at Quinn in insult, cutting her down word by word. "This is a joke." He glared at her. "What you couldn't find someone else to pick on this time? Going back after Rachel. You're a bitch!"

Puck shoved him backwards at that. Santana almost had to hold Rachel back.

Quinn wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the words.

Instead of letting him stand there and keep insulting her, Quinn let go of Rachel's hand and looked up at her. Rachel glanced down uncertainly and she said, "I need a minute."

Rachel swallowed and held her head to the side in sympathy. "Quinn…"

"I need some air."

"Please don't."

Quinn tried to smile but she could feel it not meeting her eyes. "We're okay. I just…just a minute." She unlocked the chair and wheeled herself away at an agonizingly slow rate. Getting away wouldn't happen fast enough and she tried her hardest to push faster.

xx

Santana shoved Finn as hard as she could. "I swear to god, you asshole. Leave them alone!"

He didn't need to be giving them a harder time than anyone else did. Hadn't he learned after repeatedly screwing with other people's lives? Rachel and Quinn both being his ex-girlfriends gave him a reason to be pissed, especially considering Rachel had basically broken up with him for her, but he didn't need to make a scene in the middle of the prom alerting unwanted attention to the situation.

"She's using her. How the hell can't anyone see that besides me?"

Puck stepped in between them. "Because they were together before, moron. Quinn loves her."

_What_, Santana thought. How did Puck know? No one had ever told him as far as she knew.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Schuester appeared out of nowhere and the crowd of people quickly dispersed.

Puck stepped in front of Finn with his hands up in surrender. "Nothing. We're just going to get a drink." He grabbed Finn by his shoulder gruffly and pulled him along towards the refreshment table.

Santana watched them go and rolled her eyes when Mr. Schuester turned to her for an explanation.

"Just a misunderstanding."

He looked between her, Brittany, and Rachel for a moment and then nodded in acceptance. He left them almost as quickly as he showed up.

Brittany went to Rachel and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Rachel took in a deep breath and blinked heavily, forcing the wetness in her eyes away. "Yeah," her voice stuck in her throat, "I just need to find Quinn." She looked around and Santana put her hand up.

"Let me talk to her, okay?"

Skeptically, Rachel answered, "Yeah. Thanks."

Her heels were already irritating her on the way out of the gym. She didn't want to be _dealing_ with something that early into the evening, but the faster she found Quinn, the quicker she could get back to dancing with Brittany. She knew a slow song had to start sooner or later.

Around the corner across from Sue's office, Santana found Quinn staring into her open locker. She was rifling through pictures on the inside, readjusting them, and holding back her tears nearly effortlessly. But Santana could still see them in the corner of her eyes, even from the end of the hallway.

"Did you forget your homework or…"

Quinn glanced down the hallway at her and smiled, sadly. She approached her in fluid movement, moving as quickly and quietly as she could. There didn't need to be a third party finding them that far into the school.

"Shouldn't you be dancing?"

"Shouldn't you," Santana countered.

There was a hint of a smirk on Quinn's face as she shut her locker and turned to face her. Santana spun the lock and walked around to grab onto the wheelchair's handles and at a slow pace, she gently pushed Quinn down the hallway, back the way she came.

"She's gonna hate me for leaving," Quinn said.

"Not if you come back."

Quinn shrugged in defeat. "She's going to believe Finn if he keeps saying stuff to her like that. He has such an influence on her and I don't even think she knows it."

"She _knows_ you love her."

"She knows _I_ do, and nobody else does. That'll eventually lead to her doubting that too. Because she doesn't think she's worth anything."

They turned the corner and Santana realized Quinn was on a different track of mind than what they were discussing. But nevertheless, she understood.

"Well, then. What's your decision," she asked.

After a moment of silence in which they passed the school's trophy cabinet where Sue refused letting the glee club put their trophies, Quinn folded her hands in her lap and craned her neck to look up at Santana. She was smiling and had a determined eyebrow quirked in decision.

"We have to do it."

And without another second to waste, Santana rerouted them to the choir room. She cracked and stretched her fingers, knowing her hands were going to be sore later.

* * *

><p>The boys were all on stage doing a requested rendition of One Direction, while Brittany, Kurt, Rachel, Tina, and Mercedes were dancing in the crowd. Brittany took Rachel by the hand and spun her into Tina who took her hands and twisted her back and forth. Kurt had Mercedes dancing in his hands, the two of them putting on a show for the girls around them. Brittany just wanted to make Rachel laugh after what happened, and she was doing a pretty good job as a full-bodied laugh echoed out of her tiny figure.<p>

Hands slid around her sides and she almost elbowed whoever was behind her, until the voice husked into her ear, "Did you miss me?"

Brittany grabbed Santana's hands and rocked back and forth. "So much."

"Well let's make up for that shall we?"

Santana gracefully spun Brittany around, hooking both arms around her neck and pressed their bodies together. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins at feeling Santana again and moved her feet to quickly whirl them around the floor. They bumped into the people around them, but it couldn't break her out of the dance. Santana was chuckling at her enthusiasm and she could feel her smile growing wider by the second.

"Did I tell you how much I love your hat," Santana asked, reaching up and tapping it with her fingers.

Kurt had secured the top hat to her hair with bobby-pins and it barely moved as they glided around the floor. She was happy she didn't have to worry about it for the rest of the night and that it stayed perfectly intact.

"No, but thank you."

"You're going to be a _handsome_ prom king," she joked.

Brittany placed her foot in the wrong place which forced Santana to stumble as a way to get back at her and it didn't go unnoticed. She suggestively flicked her eyebrow up and Santana shook her head in irritation as she recovered.

"I don't want to win if you don't." Brittany spun them full circle, facing the stage just as the song came to the close.

There were cheers and applause mixed in to Santana's answer of, "Don't say that."

Brittany rolled her eyes and scanned the crowd as Mr. Schuester put on another song. Quinn and Rachel were back at their table and she saw the shift in how Quinn was admiring Rachel when the song changed.

It was slow and Brittany accommodated by taking Santana with one hand around her waist and the other in her hand. Slowly the group of people around them coupled up the same, all slowing swaying each other back and forth—she saw even Rachel coaxed Quinn to the dance floor, just to sit in her lap and sway back and forth. If the two of them hadn't turned enough heads that night, that moment certainly did it.

Brittany held Santana close and rested a cheek against her temple, breathing in the warm scent.

Dancing with Santana was perfect no matter what the occasion. She loved to dance; wanting to go to school for it pretty much said it all. But alone, she critiqued her moves and had it down to a science. Dancing was still her art but there was also a methodology to go along with every turn and cross.

With Santana, she didn't care about messing up. She didn't mind the tempo increasing when her heartbeat sped up to the fingertips sliding up her back, or when the world slowed down and she could forget the music, needing only their breath to keep the rhythm. With her, she didn't have to worry about anything.

Because it was just perfect.

"I don't know if I've ever been happier than I am right now," Brittany muttered into Santana's ear.

A chill ran through Santana and she held her tighter. As always, it didn't feel tight enough.

"Me either, B."

All around them their friends were dancing with their dates and Brittany knew there wasn't anything to worry about anymore. They could just dance.

Xx

When Quinn came back to the gym, Rachel noticed she had a different glow about her entirely. She thought Finn had permanently ruined their evening, but suddenly Quinn was back and cheerier than ever. Occasionally, she would rub at her fingers out of Rachel's view—except for the one time when she saw what looked like ink marks across them—but other than that, things had gone back to the way they were when they arrived.

After their attempted slow dance, Rachel followed Quinn off the dance floor and took a seat on her lap again. She wasn't lying when she said simply _being_ with Quinn on prom night would be satisfying, and that hadn't changed. Watching her friends dance put a sad pang in her heart, but it was more for Quinn than it was for her. She'd seen the longing on her face too.

Mr. Schuester cut off the music and handed a microphone to Principal Figgins as he climbed the stairs to the stage. Rachel knew what was coming and prayed that god or someone would just let Quinn win and the whole ordeal could be over with. She just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night and she knew winning would put Quinn in an even greater mood than the one she returned with.

"McKinley High Senior class, it's time to announce Prom King and Queen," Figgins said in his dull monotone over the noise of the crowd. "I would like to invite the nominees now to the stage."

Rachel saw Santana and Brittany part through the crowd on their way to the stage. The crowd erupted in applause for the nominees congregating from all over the room. Puck made his way from the drink table to the stage and the other kids Rachel didn't ever bother to learn the names of went too. She only voted for the one person that mattered.

Quinn turned to her and smiled in a distant way that made Rachel's heart ache. She didn't want Quinn to feel guilty for something she wanted.

"Good luck." She genuinely smiled, realizing that it was selfish of her to have ever wished negative against Quinn getting something she'd desired for that long. If she could have a tiny piece of joy after the year she'd had, she deserved it.

Quinn leaned forward to Rachel and kissed her fully. It wasn't hidden or cut short in the case that someone might have seen; Quinn purposefully kissed her for the first time in a room full of the people she'd spent her high school career trying to impress.

"Fabray, let's go," Puck yelled from the opposite side of the room. Quinn and Rachel laughed as she pulled away. She smiled one last time at Rachel and then rolled away towards the stage.

Rachel really wanted her to win. She needed Quinn to win.

* * *

><p>Brittany stood with the guys on the left end of the stage, next to Puck who kept flashing her suggestive winks. She stepped on his foot as subtly as she could but his yelp attracted almost everyone on the stage's attention. Santana and Quinn laughed uproariously as he hopped around the stage while Principal Figgins went to get the crown and envelope for Prom King. The crowd of students laughed too and Brittany got some cheers for hurting him. She fist-pumped just in time with Principal Figgins walking back to the microphone.<p>

"It is my great pleasure to announce your senior prom king…" His voice dragged out as he popped open the envelope and Brittany had barely enough time to cross her fingers before he was reading from the card. His eyes rolled around and he proclaimed, "Brittany Pierce."

Brittany jumped up in the air and the crowd cheered. They weren't mocking her or laughing, but they were genuinely cheering for her. She called out, "Yes!" just at the time Figgins was walking over to her and nestling the crown on her head. Her heart was pounding and she couldn't believe it was actually happening.

When Figgins went to the side of the stage again, Puck snuck up behind Brittany and hoisted her to his shoulders. The student body applauded even louder and Brittany danced as best she could while partly in the air. Santana and Quinn were laughing beneath them as Puck walked back and forth holding her up. Santana reached up and smacked her butt when she passed by, and Figgins came back, demanding they calm down. Puck let Brittany off and stood with his arm around her, making a show of pointing to her crown and making a whooping sound.

"Enough, Mr. Puckerman," Figgins said, holding the other envelope in his hand. "And now, your senior prom queen…" He repeated the action of opening the envelope, but when he pulled the card out, he stared at it a lot longer than he had the king's.

The room was quietly waiting in anticipation as he cleared his throat in what seemed like aggravation. "It seems we have another write-in nominee."

Brittany sought out Kurt in the crowd and watched his face drain of color almost instantaneously, Blaine standing firmly beside him. She glanced over at Santana sadly but was confused to see her smirking, and Brittany saw she wasn't surprised at all. When her attention turned back out into the crowd and she saw Rachel, she smiled, figuring it out.

"Your two thousand twelve prom queen is," Figgins paused against to give all the girls sympathetic looks, "Rachel Berry."

Brittany saw Quinn's smirk—a matching set with Santana's—and she'd never been more proud of her friend.

The room stayed quiet.

Even Puck who hadn't been silent the whole time didn't make one move after Principal Figgins said Rachel's name. Brittany wanted to do something but before she got the chance, she saw Rachel stand up from the table and smooth out her dress.

She seemed frightened by every person that slid away to let her through the middle of the gymnasium and to the stage. All of the kids looked almost double as confused as she did, but they weren't booing and Brittany thought that was a good sign. Unless she _misread _the signs and Rachel was about to reenact some vicious scene from _Carrie_, a movie she'd only watched at Quinn's persistence. Knowing how unoriginal the it-crowd of McKinley could be, Brittany wouldn't have been surprised if a tub of _slushie _showered down upon Rachel the second she stepped on stage.

At least she'd be there to take the fall with her.

Brittany kept her eyes on Rachel as she ascended the stairs and tried to smile at her. But she hadn't met her eyes directly yet, keeping her own assuredly on the floor. Rachel went past her and Puck offered the girl a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. She returned to him a tight-lipped smile as Figgins went up to her and handed her the scepter.

Brittany was a little disappointed she didn't get one too.

When he was done putting the crown on her head, the room eerily quiet as they all watched in wonder, Rachel finally glanced over at Brittany.

Brittany grinned and did the only thing she could think to do.

She started clapping.

Then Puck started clapping.

And in great succession, the room followed suit. A chorus of cheers and whistles sounded around the room as Figgins once again came on the microphone and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, your Prom King and Queen."

Brittany hustled over to Rachel and wrapped an arm around her in celebration. She was laughing and staring into her hands, Brittany figured still in shock of what was happening. But she didn't care; and neither did Puck who gave Rachel the same treatment he did Brittany, lifting the girl up on his shoulders and running around the stage with her. She was screeching, begging him to put her down and Brittany doubled over in laughter while she watched.

"Now, will the—uh—_king_ and queen return to the floor for the customary dance."

Puck let Rachel down and Brittany grabbed her by the arm and rushed them down the stairs. Rachel wasn't her ideal partner, but she was happy enough for the two of them winning that it didn't matter.

Preplanned by the glee club based on who was running, Santana and Quinn both remained on the stage to perform the song. Just as the opening of _Take My Breath Away_ started, Brittany hooked an arm around Rachel's waist and led them in a traditional slow dance.

At first, Rachel couldn't look at her and Brittany used the awkwardness to judge the reactions of the people circling the dance floor. She could see Mercedes and Sam grinning at them, Kurt and Blaine wrapped up in each other, dancing, and finally her eyes landed on Santana just as she started her first verse.

Brittany grinned, feeling every ounce of Santana's gaze thrumming through her, sending a warmth through her limbs. Her breath caught in her throat as Santana winked intimately from the head of the room, in plain sight of anyone who choose to look. She mouthed _I love you_ right before Rachel started questioning everything.

"How could this have happened?" Rachel stared up at Brittany, begging for an answer.

"Maybe people see you more than you think they do," she answered.

"But, Quinn. Quinn should have won. It would all be alright if they had just picked her."

"It's—"

Rachel started sputtering, "I'm not _her_, Brittany. She's Quinn. She's perfect and everyone thinks she's perfect. This should have been hers. Not mine." She almost tried to pull away but Brittany wouldn't let her. "She's going to _hate_ me for this."

Brittany shook her the best she could without disturbing the flow of the dance. "Stop. She could never hate you." She spun them and let Rachel face the stage. "Does she look mad?"

Rachel glanced away from her for a second and then she looked humbled. "She's smiling."

Brittany spun them again and saw Quinn in the middle of the stage in her wheelchair, singing with more joy than she had seen her in a long time.

"She's proud, Rachel."

"I just can't believe this happened…"

Santana finished the second chorus and Brittany just tried to make Rachel accept that she won.

"This is a good thing. Just enjoy it."

Rachel looked around at the group of people joining the dance and swiftly nodded, a flashy smile lighting up her face. "You lead better than a lot of guys."

Brittany shrugged. "I got used to it with Santana. She doesn't do so hot with slow dancing."

Rachel burst out a laugh, shaking her head. "That's funny, and kind of surprising."

Brittany chuckled too, hoping she wouldn't get in trouble for saying that.

The song was coming to a close and Brittany couldn't help but notice that she hadn't heard Quinn sing anything in a long time. She turned Rachel for a view of the stage and saw Santana, but Quinn was nowhere to be found. She searched until something caught her attention in the corner of the room.

Her eyes went to the steps where Puck was standing with his back to her. Trying not to let Rachel notice, she subtly titled her head to see around him. When she did, her eyes filled with tears; happy tears.

Rachel saw her and switched immediately from happiness to concern, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Brittany? What's wrong?"

Brittany didn't say anything. She couldn't. All she did was remove Rachel's hands and turn her around to see what had possessed her to cry.

And when Rachel saw it, she gasped, audibly.

Across the room, Santana and Puck were standing on either side of Quinn, both with a hand on one arm. She was out of the chair and on both legs, firmly keeping them locked to the ground. It was easy to tell she was struggling, but Brittany could also see Santana and Puck weren't supporting her. And when Quinn finally looked up from her feet, Rachel was already power walking across the floor with tears of her own.

xx

Quinn brushed Puck and Santana off, proving to them—and herself—that she could do it. Her strength had come back with two weeks of ridiculous therapy. Lawrence wasn't kidding when he said he'd have her dancing by prom, and the surprise and adoration on Rachel's face told her the struggle was worth that affection spilling from Rachel's eyes.

"Quinn…" Rachel had a hand over her lips and she was crying uncontrollably.

There was a loud tap over the microphone and Quinn saw Puck and Sam filling their end of the bargain perfectly. Puck had a guitar and he was adjusting the tuning for the song Quinn requested of them a few days before when she hatched the plan to begin with. She wanted one thing to go perfectly in the event that she didn't win or someone went after them for being there together, and had cornered them after school. The two boys were glad to help, no questions asked.

Sam cleared his throat and started talking, "Hi, hello! A friend of ours asked us to dedicate," he put his fingers up in air quotes, "_a really good song that none of those musically illiterate jack holes_ _would care to know_," Quinn smirked, "to her date _and_ girlfriend, Rachel. So Rachel, this is for you." He smiled. "From Quinn."

Puck had already been strumming up to the first verse and Sam began singing:

_Put your hand in mine  
>Can you read the signs?<br>I'll never lose you  
>I couldn't choose to if I tried<em>

All eyes were on them and Quinn flinched, knowing what she had just done for her and Rachel. Even if Finn hadn't been screaming it for everyone to hear earlier that night, everyone would know. And despite all that would result from her decision, she forced herself not to care.

Without wasting any more time, Quinn stepped forward tediously and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.

"Can I have a dance with the prom queen?"

Rachel couldn't have held her faster than the rate at which she grabbed Quinn around the waist and they were trapped together kissing, hugging, and dancing. Her veins were pumping adrenaline and her heart was pounding but Quinn couldn't stop to care. She was happy.

_Some things I know  
>And I know that you were meant for me<em>

'_Yeah,' _she was happier than she'd ever imagined.

* * *

><p>After they left the prom, Santana declared they wouldn't let the driver drop them off until they had used up every last minute of service. She paid for her limo, '<em>and she was gonna gets her limo<em>.'

It was a party in the cabin and they were all dancing. Puck, Mike, and Tina had joined them after Artie complained he was just tired and wanted to go home. Puck and Santana fought over whether or not they could get away with picking up liquor on the way around town, but Kurt and Rachel quickly nixed the idea saying they didn't want the perfect night to end in a prison cell.

Brittany was attached to Santana's hip for the whole ride and they spent a fair amount of it making out at the head where they were sitting on the way _to_ the dance. They would have minded the crowd if everyone else wasn't too busy doing the same or playing with the moon roof. Brittany crawled out it three times on her own before the limo driver asked her kindly to stop shouting at passing cars.

Santana pulled her back in and they were tangled together on the seat, gazing at each other in quiet stillness. Brittany couldn't help but flirt, running her fingers along the hem of Santana's dress or licking her bottom lip emphatically. Santana had a hand on her neck and one on her thigh, keeping her close and connected. She couldn't stomach being separated from her for even a minute.

At one in the morning, the limo swiftly distributed them at their houses, each of their dates going with, to be taken home at a later moment, while Brittany and Santana didn't move out of each others arms in the car. Santana requested they be taken home last at the beginning of the trip; something she could do easily at the front of the compartment.

After Tina and Mike were dropped at his house, Santana gazed away from Brittany to knock on the divider. The guy rolled it down and gave her the quickest look he could while still paying attention to the road.

"Yes?" He asked.

"What's your name? We never got a chance to ask." Brittany fumbled in her seat and she gripped her tighter.

"Richard, miss. But I go by Dick."

Santana nodded. "Alrighty, Dick. Wanna earn another hundred bucks?"

He looked in the mirror at her and frowned. "I'm really not supposed to do that."

"Two hundred."

Brittany didn't have a clue what was going on, but she untangled herself from Santana and slid along the seats until she could reach the little bar and picked up a bottle of water.

"Two hundred," Dick recited, looking back at her in question.

"Two hundred, another hour, and make sure you hit the east end of Washington before we get home." Santana grabbed her purse from the opposite seat and dug around for her wallet. She opened it up, grabbed a couple of the hundreds she tucked in there as emergency money and handed it over to him in the front seat.

"Okay. One more hour." Dick nodded and put the divider back up.

Santana turned her head to look at Brittany and slowly crept towards the back seat. Brittany was smiling at her in confusion as she took up the seat next to her and dragged Brittany's legs onto her lap. She reached over and opened the window after they were settled.

"What are we doing?" Brittany asked, cuddling into Santana's chest.

Santana wrapped an arm around her back and pulled Brittany tight against her, nuzzling the top of her hair—Kurt plucked the mini top hat off her head hours before—with her nose and breathing in the sweet, cotton candy scent Brittany hadn't changed since middle school.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

Brittany let out a little chuckle and then snuggled closer. "Cool."

They drove around town for a half hour after that, exchanging relaxed kisses and simply _were_ with each other. Occasionally, Santana would point out something familiar out the side window and Brittany would suddenly remember that they were still in Lima and not vacationing out on one of the most romantic nights of their lives. When a chill ran through the air, Santana held her closer, rubbed her shoulders, arms, and back; using any excuse to touch her.

After what felt like hours, Santana realized they were on Washington Avenue. She maneuvered them, putting Brittany's back to her front and let her see what was outside the window.

The sign for Lima Park slowly rolled past the window and Santana felt the car decelerate as they passed along. In the distance she could see the lake shimmering with the stars reflection off the surface and the moon, a big white crescent in the center.

"Wow," Brittany whispered, sitting up to see more.

The grass had greened in early spring and in a few short weeks they could go and lay in the middle of the field like they hadn't in a long time. She imagined the old swing set's paintjob had finally dried and that meant once again they could force their bodies to fit into the one seat, the two of them working as a combined unit to make it start moving. The park could be theirs again.

"It's so beautiful," Brittany elaborated, falling back into Santana's arms. She looked up and saw her gazing down, smiling from ear to ear.

"You're beautiful."

Brittany leaned up and kissed her with tender, purposeful direction. And surpassing her expectations, prom _did_ end better than the year before.

Santana whispered, "I love you," amongst the lingering radio music and the air whizzing past the window as Dick sped up to take them home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you! Reviews please? :)**

**The song Sam and Puck were singing is On The Other Side by Augustana.  
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**Hmm...how about reviews...  
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**prattle01-Is it bad if I can't remember what you're referencing by Quinn's idea haha. I think I'm just too lazy to go look. Thanks!  
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**TeamBrittana4Ever-I mean, Brittany probably totally does top the relationship...it's not that hard to picture lol  
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**Tagme07-I mentioned it! I hope you liked it. If not, sorry. It got a little caught up amongst everything going on at that point but I tried to make it stand out haha  
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**Alex-Thanks! I hope you liked it?  
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**Gryall-Thank you so much!  
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**ChristinaLacrima-I should have made the title something like 'the spectacle' or something because Quinn and Santana both did it in weird, non-obnoxious ways. Haha thanks!  
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**MusicFlowsWithin-Totally a dream prom, right? Right!?  
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**Musicfutbolfan6-I know, right? :)  
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**krys10-I think this is less than a week...that's a quick enough update I hope? :)  
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**Breakdown6-God they are such badasses aren't they. Quinn in her wheelchair and Santana being whipped enough to forget her eggroll. So _tough_! Britt totally would have rocked king a lot cooler than Finn did. I'm pretty sure I turned away from the screen when he won. It made no sense. I can't wait to hear your response to the parts I kept from you in this one. And to see if you figure out which idea was yours :)  
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	58. you're always holding on to stars

**A/N: Wahh, I'm so tired. Sorry for the wait. Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own shit.  
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**Breakdown6- I gave you an in-text shout out. Find it and you win...something...I don't know, a virtual high five?  
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* * *

><p>Ms. Hagburg, a rather large woman in her late fifties had been Brittany's teacher almost every year of high school. While her eccentricities had her bouncing from one subject to the next—easily, with Figgins' devout approval—somehow she managed to acquire at least one slot on Brittany's schedule from freshman year all the way to senior. Her voice took on a droll enthusiasm when she taught, something that most of the time kept attention from the class, Brittany not an exception. She liked her students, wanted them to succeed, even if in some cases, the students themselves didn't want to.<p>

Brittany hoped if she showed that she actually _wanted to_, help would be given.

That's what took her to Ms. Hagburg's classroom on the Monday two weeks prom. She knocked on the door, excitedly and earned herself an anxious smile from her teacher, but that didn't deter her from walking confidently inside and pulling a chair to sit opposite her teacher behind the desk.

"Yes, Brittany. Can I help you with something?" Her voice dipped off in a cautious breath that had Brittany smiling to reassure the woman that she was entirely serious.

"As my teacher, you know my grade in math has always been really low, mostly because I never understood anything or I'd be texting Santana." Ms. Hagburg knew Santana; she'd kicked her out of class one time for asking if cats made good friends.

She continued, "And if you have noticed, they are going up a little bit, but not as much as I need them to. And I needed to know if you think making it up to a B could actually happen. Or if you could—"

Ms. Hagburg put her hand up to cut her off, as politely as she possibly could have. "Brittany, you've wasted hours of class time since you got here. I've watched you for years thinking maybe one day she could get it together, but I hate to say that it might be too late in the game for that kind of improvement."

She couldn't think that. It wasn't too late; it was April and she had two whole months before school was out. "Please, you have to understand that I need this."

Ms. Hagburg sighed as she peered across the paper-scattered desk at her, frowning from one wrinkled dimple to the other. "There are five tests left. You have a D. Even if you get an A on all of them and make every homework check, that's still getting you only to a high C. I'm sorry, I just don't think it's doable."

Nearly cutting off the end of her sentence, Brittany interjected, "What about extra work? Give me more homework and another assignment; anything to raise it. I'll do all of it."

She was already dedicating evenings to the final project for her history class, spending hours with Quinn and Santana researching sources and writing, the Cheerio's were heading out of town on Friday for competition, and glee club had long, harsh dance rehearsals preparing for Nationals, but she would gladly take on anything she could get. It didn't matter that she'd worked more in the last month than she had in her whole high school career on practically anything, because she wanted to get into AMDA. She _would_ get in.

Ms. Hagburg stared at Brittany for a long minute, a little uncomfortable long, but she held her head high and waited, determined to show her sincerity. The chalkboard behind the woman faded out of existence, the desk in between the two of them disappearing, and it was simply them, locked in a stare, confident from Brittany's end, skeptically from her teacher's.

Finally, after a loud slam of a locker door outside the classroom, Ms. Hagburg gave out a comfortable sigh.

"This isn't a free pass, Ms. Pierce," she said poignantly. "Due dates are non-negotiable and firm. This is a privilege, not a right. That being said, I expect wonderful things from each and every assignment, nothing half-assed will count."

Brittany cracked a smile as her teacher cursed and quickly extinguished it, nodding her head conciliatorily.

"I know."

Ms. Hagburg smiled before turning to her desk drawers, pulling out the bottom one and lifting a thick folder, papers sticking out astray, and plopped it down on her desk. Brittany bit her lip.

The woman folded her hands atop the manila folder and asked, "Why don't we get started with a schedule?"

For the rest of Brittany's second period, after Ms. Hagburg called Mr. Schuester and told him she kept her over, they went over what assignments she would have to complete, when they were all due, and what she expected from each of them. Brittany watched on with absolute attention, taking notes in a planner, and smiling that she found someone else who was willing to help her.

* * *

><p>In glee club, everyone—minus Brittany—had their phones and iPods out, scanning websites and their personal libraries for what Mr. Schuester had called "set list-day", irritatingly unoriginal in Santana's opinion. She and Mercedes were responsible for picking a Troubletones number and after Schuester had refused a few of her suggestions, she gave up and let Mercedes start throwing out her best options. He wasn't too interested in those either.<p>

Above Santana, Quinn and Rachel were going through Rachel's music because she had been given the opportunity to pick her solo—a solo that went to her without any grief; nobody dared being rude to Rachel with Quinn perched next to her—in the trust that she knew what song would work best with her voice. Santana didn't know if that was a good idea either, because it led to hushed arguments behind her as Rachel stressed about her choices and making the wrong one. Quinn sounded supportive, but she definitely heard a few frustrated words slip from her lips.

"What about Gaga," Mercedes asked to the front of the room. "She off limits?"

Puck smacked Sam's thigh obscenely loud and threw his arm in the air, "Yeah! You chicks should do that 'hooker' song. That'd show the judges what's up."

"You're a moron," Quinn tossed toward his direction and there was laughter from around the room.

"Whatever! It would be totally sexy_." _

Santana grabbed a notebook from beside her chair, not really caring whose it was, and launched it at his head. He grabbed Sam by the shirt and used him as a shield, the book smacking into the back of his blonde head.

Sam pushed Puck off and yelled, "Ow, dick!"

Mr. Schuester got up off the piano bench and went towards the risers. "Enough. This isn't helping." He turned to the girls who had all pretty much claimed the left side of the room. "Mercedes, did you have a song in mind?"

"Edge of Glory, maybe," she said, looking to Santana for approval.

She shrugged, not really a huge fan of the song, and said, "Sure. Might as well get one song picked. At the rate the rest of these asses are working, we need to get 'em picked as soon as possible."

"Great!" Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together and went to copy the song down onto the white board. "One down two to go."

'_Helpful as ever,' _Santana mocked to herself.

Kurt, who had been sitting with Blaine and Tina, walked across the room sat down in the seat next to Rachel. Santana turned around, satisfied with her "contribution" to the Troubletones' song and listened in as he tried to talk some sense into Rachel. She was still muttering under her breath about a musical song being too boring for the judges. Quinn tried to smile supportively but the way Santana smirked broke her into a frustrated groan.

"Sweetie, you've done Barbara, you've done Journey," he listed and then added as a joke, "and you've done _Rachel Berry_." She rolled her eyes and he tapped the screen on her phone, scrolling through the artists. "I think there's one more 'great' you need to tackle before you leave this club."

Santana couldn't see what he picked but Rachel's eyes lit up as she scoured the screen with new enthusiasm, reading off each and every title to herself low enough that she still couldn't figure it out.

She looked up at Kurt once and he shook his head. "The exchange student did that one."

Santana glanced at Rory and quickly gave up the notion that Michael Bublé would be one of the 'greats' Kurt was talking about.

Suddenly, Rachel stood up, forcing Santana to shift away with a disgusted look on her face, declaring in her most dramatic voice possible, "I have it!"

"What?" Mr. Schuester asked, from his position in front of the white board.

"I will be performing, It's All Coming Back To Me Now, by the superbly talented Celine Dion."

From beside Tina, Mike cheered, "Yeah! Titanic!" Everyone in the room turned to him with either patronizing or sympathetic looks. "What?"

"I think that's a wonderful choice, Rachel," Mr. Schuester said. "You'll kill it."

Quinn put her hand on Rachel's back and guided her down into the chair, the two of them flashing excited smiles at each other.

"Well we just need one more," he told them. "And I promised the boys they could have the group number. See, I had the idea that if I let each group pick something specific, we would cover every demographic that could be on the panel."

Finn ran a finger across his eyelid and groaned. "You mean if we pick something classic rock."

"Exactly! Then we have: a classic, a powerful girl's number, and a fundamental solo."

Rachel protested almost immediately. "Excuse me, Mr. Schue? Are you implying that what I sing is basic and unoriginal?"

He rolled his eyes at her and Santana gripped the edge of her chair to resist the urge of throwing it at him.

"No, Rachel. I'm implying that you're talented, and for an assessment of skill, you singing a solo is monumental."

With what appeared to be a humbled smile, although most of them in the club knew it was practiced rather than sincere, Rachel nodded and gave him a wave of his hand to continue. Santana rolled her own eyes and received an abrupt kick to her chair from Quinn.

"But what if we don't want to pick something like that," Finn argued, slumping down into his chair with his arms crossed. "What if me and Puck want to perform a rap?"

Puck squinted across the room at Finn with a confused glare and put his hands up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

There was a low hum of distension around the room as groans mingled with whispers and the scratch of chairs being pushed closer together for discussion. They could all sense something wasn't right; they'd been in the choir room with each other long enough to know when there might be an outburst.

"Alright," their teacher said, "well, Finn, I think you know that's not the best option when it comes to a competition selection. If you want to perform at the end of the year assembly with a rap, I'd be more than happy to—"

"Well, _Mr._ _Schue_, I think that's crap. If Rachel, Santana, and Mercedes get to pick whatever they want, why can't I?"

"They picked something and ran it by me first. In the end I have final say, and a _rap_ isn't going to help us win anything."

"We probably aren't going to win anything anyway," Finn grumbled. "We always lose when it comes to something this huge. It's like our _mantra_ or something."

"That's not what that word means," Quinn interrupted.

"What's your problem, man," Puck growled. "Knock this shit off."

Finn stood up from his chair, and walked out. "Whatever, this is such a waste of time anyway."

"We started with Rachel making storm outs, and we're ending with Finn doing them," Artie observed. "At least we've come full circle."

Mr. Schuester stared out the door after him with a hand on his chin. The rest of the room was in silent deliberation over what had happened, trying to come up with an explanation. Santana offered that he had his panties in a bunch, which no one found quite as funny as she did. _'Brittany would 'a laughed,'_ she reasoned, partly to make herself feel better.

"Maybe I should go talk to him," Mr. Schuster said. Santana grimaced as she turned to Quinn.

"I think maybe I should," Rachel finally asserted, getting ready to stand up. In a surprising gesture, Quinn grabbed her hand and shook her head.

"Let me," she suggested. Santana could hear how it was more of a question than a declaration, something she wasn't used to coming from Quinn's voice.

"Are you sure," Rachel asked. "That's a tiny bit—"

"Strange? Yeah, well he and I need to talk, sooner or later." Quinn leaned forward and cupped Rachel's face with her left hand. Santana took the time to notice almost every head of the glee club turn away from them, commencing more hushed whispers, mostly shocked comments even after how long it'd been.

Quinn kissed Rachel's forehead and then silently departed the room. Everyone watched her go with plain curiosity, more than one of them wishing to follow and see how the conversation went, Santana definitely included.

xx

On the front steps of McKinley, surrounded by lingering dead leaves and crumbled up notebook paper, Finn sat with his gaze pointed straight out at the parking lot. Quinn watched him for a second from the front doorway, her arms crossed and blonde hairs blowing across her forehead in the light breeze, to see if she could find out what was wrong without having to even talk with him. She'd always found Finn incredibly easy to read; his emotions were perennially out for the world to see if they just took the time to notice. And with his jaw set and brow screwed up, she didn't have to guess that he was still reeling from what had finally occurred to him at prom.

Without a second thought, Quinn crossed the threshold of the door and the light slam against the frame caused him to turn around and take in her appearance. She walked a few steps forward, on slightly unsteady feet still, and sat down next to him, leaving a fine foot of space in between their bodies. He shifted away as their body heat mixed between the cold air and she felt his immense desire for her to leave.

"What are you doing," he asked, keeping his eyes on the paved parking lot, strewn with cars. Quinn could make out hers from the front row, Rachel's jacket slung over the passenger seat.

"I came to talk to you," she said. "Everyone else can play dumb but I know why you're upset and we should just get it out and over with."

"Yeah, Quinn, _let's_ just talk about it. You're only doing so you can stop feeling guilty about stealing my girlfriend. No, scratch that, my fiancé."

Quinn grimaced, following Finn's example and keeping her eyes on the sweatshirt. It gave her a certain strength to have a piece of Rachel there in that moment to cling to. The second she looked away she'd know he was right because if she were being honest with herself, she _did_ feel guilty. As often as people traded girlfriends and boyfriends in the glee club, Finn and Rachel were together when she intervened, even as much as she opposed it.

Instead of owning up to it right away, she went on the defensive. "Rachel told me you made peace with everything at the hospital, so why are you making such a deal about it now?"

His silence felt pervasive for a moment that she shut her eyelids and breathed in the chilled air. Winter wasn't giving up without a fight, long into the middle of spring. The temperature changes were drastic from one day to the next and Quinn willed summer to come faster. She hated the cold.

He spoke up, "I thought I was. But it's different when I find out who the other guy is and it turns out to be you."

She gave him a cutting glare and he returned it right back.

"You know what I mean," he said.

Quinn tried to think of the best way to explain it to him without giving out too much information. She didn't know what she owed him after their lives together, having dated since middle school, but she felt the longing to finally tell him everything. She wanted him to have a way to put everything together when he looked back on their experience together.

"Finn," she turned towards him and commanded his attention with what authority she had left, "when I met Rachel, in elementary school, I knew she was special. I didn't realize until I was fourteen that I liked girls exclusively, but that's when how I felt about her, the teasing and insults, made sense. And this isn't a new thing for either of us. We were together for a brief period of time last year. But I kept screwing things up and she thought you were a better choice for her.

"She loved you." He frowned at her and she nodded to reinforce her point. "She did. But she's also always loved me. And I love her. I don't think there's been a second since I've known her that she wasn't the most important person in my life."

He scuffed his sneaker against the ground and rolled his fingers across the leg of his jeans. "Why didn't you just break up with me if you knew you were into that?"

"The same reason you didn't want to date Rachel at first. We're genetically designed to crave popularity."

He cracked a forlorn smile at the pavement and shook his head. "It took her to show me that didn't matter."

She sighed and gazed back out into her car window. "Yeah, me too."

"Did you guys see each other behind my back," he suddenly asked, whipping his head to her. "Any of the times?"

"When you two were dating, no," she said honestly. "We were barely even speaking then. But when you and I were dating last year, yes, we were."

He shoved himself back into his seat on the step, annoyed. "Why does someone always have to cheat on me?"

"Finn, do you even care about me in that way, anymore," she asked. "At that time, did you really love me?"

He regarded her timidly, looking back and forth between her eyes with exhaustion in his own. She could tell the answer without him even admitting it.

But he still did.

"No, okay? I didn't. I wanted to feel things with you again, but it was always her."

They sat in silence together, alternating chancing glances at each other and purposelessly studying the rows of cars lined from the front of the building, around the side, to the back. Quinn thought about her relationship with Finn and if it had ever been real. There had to have been an initial spark to begin it but for the life of her she couldn't place the moment in time where they allegedly started. She wondered if he knew. Or if he ever liked her enough for it to matter. There was the sick recognition that for a long time, Rachel meant more to each of them than they did to each other and she tried to bury that thought into the ground for a long minute, content to deal with it in another life.

"I promised her I would let her go and get over it so we could be friends, but this just feels different. Everything is a different deal now."

"Well, what the hell does that have to do with National's and why you stormed out? You can't let your personal feelings get involved with this like last year."

"Trust me, I won't kiss her this year," he joked bitterly, looking sideways at her. "I don't think that will end well for me."

She popped her eyebrows up in a surprised laugh. "It wouldn't, trust me."

He smirked at her for a second and then looked back down at the ground. "I think I'm going to stay here after high school. Burt offered me the tire shop a while back and I think I might take him up on it."

She fixed on him a confused stare, rubbing her left arm with her right hand, trying to warm up. He didn't turn to her right away, almost as if he could sense she didn't understand, but when he did, she had an inkling. "And?"

"And I do want to win National's. So I can have something to look back on."

She nodded with a teasing smile. "Yeah, I mean McKinley's football record is shit."

He chuckled. "Probably should've stuck with basketball."

"I preferred cheering outside versus that sweaty gym," she joked, scrunching up her nose at the foul memory.

"Do you miss cheering," he asked kindly.

She grinned, turned on by what had happened already that day and became her private secret. He eyed her warily, seeing the glint and smiled unsurely, watching her for any hint of revelation. Quinn thought about it and then decided she needed her own answers first.

"Will you be okay with Rachel and I any time soon," she asked, as casually as she could given the weight that presently hadn't been lifted from his shoulders.

He put hands on either side of himself, palms flat down against the steps and stared back out at the parking lot. Quinn wondered if he'd picked up dramatics from spending time with Rachel.

"I don't know how well I trust you with her," he admitted flatly, "but I know I want the two of you in my life. We've all known each other too long for none of it to matter." He looked over at her. "We could be friends, right?"

She shrugged. "It's possible."

"Then for now I'll say yes." He shifted towards her and pointed a finger in her face. "But I swear Quinn—"

She grabbed his finger and bent it backwards; he yelped and inched away from her.

"Loud and clear," she teased.

He played with his finger, testing its durability and groaning when it hurt him. " 'kay, so what about my question?"

She smiled inwards and curled her flailing locks behind one ear with pride.

"Okay, but you have to keep it a secret…"

* * *

><p>Walking down the front hallway and out of a review session, Brittany saw Finn and Quinn walking down the hallway together pleasantly. She would have taken the time to stop them and ask what the hell was going on, but within a minute of leaving the classroom Santana had grabbed her by the hand and was leading her in a different direction.<p>

In a flurry of dropped books and a flick of the lights, Santana had her up against the wall in what looked like a janitor's closet they frequented in sophomore year. Scratching nails were under the back of her Cheerio's top, pulling her closer and holding on at the same time; she hooked her arms around Santana's neck and gave in completely, too surprised and pleased to ask any questions.

Santana's lips moved from the flesh of her neck to her mouth, pulling and biting on the tender skin. She moaned softly in the breaths mixed between them, surging forward to take the kiss back, forcing Santana onto the door. Her hand searched swiftly for a leg and slid it up and around her hip to tug them closer together. It was Santana's turn to gasp from the back of her throat as their bodies came into contact, Brittany grinding down just enough to elicit a response.

She captured Santana in another kiss and coaxed her tongue out and into her own mouth, demanding she kiss back with a fervor that Santana had started them off with. She loved turning the tables on her when something like that happened; it riled Santana up enough to play harder.

In a second, Santana was out from under her and resting slyly against the other half of the door. She pulled on her ponytail, tightening it where Brittany's feral hands had pulled it loose. Her lips were red, but quirked up in a pleasant smirk, holding their gaze with gleaming eyes. Slowly, she eased off the door and walked to the other edge of the closet in front of a metal shelf.

Brittany coughed to clear her throat and brushed the back of her top down where it felt bundled up. She zipped up the back of her skirt which by some magical force had come undone; the proud expression on Santana's brow as she watched her fumble gave her hint to how it happened.

"Wow," Brittany said languidly, "it's like you missed me or something."

Santana shrugged, drifting her finger over an opened box of dry-erase markers. She took one out and tossed it across the room into the sink. Brittany laughed, having no discernible idea of why she did it, but finding it funny all the same.

"We should do dinner tonight," Santana suggested, dropping the marker cap to the floor.

Brittany moaned dramatically. "We should! We could go to that Chinese place!"

"Nuh-uh," Santana dismissed her. "At my house. My dad is going to be home and my mom wants to cook."

"Did you already plan this?"

She shrugged again, grabbing another marker. Her feet took her across the room within an arm's length of Brittany; she grabbed her hand and uncapped the marker with her teeth. The acidic stench of the marker attacked Brittany's senses and she had to turn away with a cringed nose. She could feel the tip sliding against her skin with Santana's eyes trained solely on whatever she was doing.

The heaviness of the ink set into her hand, cool jets of air being blown on it to help dry faster. She shivered as the breeze tickled her fingers against the warmth of Santana holding onto her wrist delicately; she could feel the pad of every fingertip touching making contact, every pressure releasing and reaffirming itself as the seconds passed.

"You have to invite your mom and dad," Santana told her quietly, tilting her head back up, but not releasing her hold. "_Vic_ wants them there."

Brittany giggled. "Don't call him that, it's weird."

"It's his name, _Brittany,_" the infliction in her voice was joking, formal and irregular.

Santana lifted Brittany's hand, putting it into her line of vision. Written in purple ink, Santana had initialed onto her skin a capital letter 'S' above an outline of a heart with the addition of an apostrophe and another smaller 's'. A poignant 'B', done with particular strokes of the marker, was underneath, where her hand met the wrist.

"_S hearts B_," Brittany read off her own flesh. "Aren't we a little old for this?"

Santana smiled, her teeth white and shiny, eyes full of joy and contentment. She shook her head.

"Never."

'_God I love her so much_,' Brittany thought the second before cupping both of Santana's cheeks and pulling her forward for a crushing kiss.

xx

The Lopez dining room rarely occupied more than two people. Usually, the table was set for four—Santana's brother's chair always empty since he never came home—but Maria squished two more chairs in on either side of the middle ones. Santana had helped her dad pull apart the table to make it longer, stopping only once when he pinched her finger in it to curse, and there was then plenty of room to accommodate for Tony and Anna.

When the Pierce's arrived about two hours after school, Santana and Brittany were already setting the table. Santana tried to get her to go sit and watch TV instead of helping but she insisted and grabbed a stack of plates out of her hands before she could stop it from happening. Their dads were filling wine glasses in the kitchen with the women who were talking about the Church's new Father while Maria finished off the last few dishes.

Since they were still alone, Santana took the time after they were done to grab Brittany by the hips and kissed her in earnest. They were silent, lips softly caressing each other until the heel-falls clicked from the kitchen towards them. Brittany parted them, dropping into the nearest chair on one side of the table. Santana followed her wordlessly.

Anna and Maria walked into the both with a dish in their hands: Maria's was a pot of mashed potatoes and Anna's freshly steamed, mixed-vegetables. Anna continued towards the table as Maria paused in the doorway and eyed Santana irritably.

"It's customary to sit across from your date, mija," she taunted harmlessly.

Brittany stared up at her in confusion as Victor and Tony came in, prompting Maria to head towards the table. Victor had a platter of roasted chicken breasts and Tony a bowl of bread and tub of butter.

"Why," Brittany asked, eyes following the food.

Maria looked at Anna with worry, not having an answer.

Anna laughed, "Hell if I know."

Tony put his hand on Anna's shoulder and led her to the opposite side of the table. He pulled out a chair for her and smiled. Santana loved watching them interact because they had tenderness she rarely had the opportunity to see her own mother and father illustrate.

"I like how they think," he said congenially, "now I get to sit next to you." One eyebrow lifted as he spoke and Santana caught a grimace on Brittany's face.

She turned to her and poked her arm.

"Maybe we need to play Kurt's 'hands on the table' game," Santana whispered.

Anna's gaze darted across the table and she titled her head in confusion. "What's that?"

Santana's face burned red with the eyes of the other adults, completely understanding, on her waiting for her to explain. She scowled in the direction of her father and his teasing glint, never going back to look at Brittany's mom.

"How about you say grace, Vic," Maria suggested, laying a napkin flat in her lap.

After a ritualistic grace that hadn't changed in all of Santana's years living with her parents, the six of them started to pass around food. The seating allowed Anna and Maria to talk as well as Victor and Tony. They left Santana and Brittany to keep to themselves and talk about going to Florida that Friday for the Cheerio's National competition.

Maria, hearing the conversation, broke away from Anna for a second to address her daughter.

"Sweetie, when does the plane leave?" she asked.

"Noon," Santana answered, forking another pile of mashed potatoes into her mouth. Brittany watched her with a laugh and expanded on it.

"The bus is leaving at ten," she told all of them. "Coach Sylvester said if the bus driver didn't get us there in time she was going to assassinate him and take over. But we're leaving at twelve thirty, and we should get there by three."

"I really wish we could go to this one," Anna lamented. "But it's a little inconvenient what with having just come home from a trip."

Santana put her hand up to assuage the guilty looks on their moms' faces. "It's totally cool, Mrs. P. It's not like you can't watch it on TV."

"Oh!" Victor exclaimed. "Make sure you DVR that so I can watch it when I come home from the hospital."

Tony wiped his face with his napkin. "I suppose the two of you," he indicated the women, "are going to watch together." They nodded. "I guess I could come do that. We could make it a full on girl's day."

"You could really use a manicure," Brittany commented. She grasped her dad's hand from across the table and held it up. "They could make this look all pretty and not so dirty and gross."

He stuck out his tongue at her and she scrunched up her nose.

"You're very welcome to come, Tony," Maria offered.

Victor cleared his throat as he slightly pushed his plate away from the edge of the table. His hands crossed, scarred fingers interlocking themselves, and he regarded the full table, a serious expression on his face.

"Speaking of travelling, Tony, Anna," he smiled at them, "we wanted to talk about the logistics of moving the girls out there."

"The true intent is revealed," Tony joked, squaring away his plate and sitting up.

"Couldn't this have waited until after dinner," Santana argued. Her voice was laden with dissatisfaction and irritation. She was having a good time with the family and didn't want anything to put unnecessary stress on the night.

"It's not going to take long, Santana," he growled. His dark eyebrows furrowed in discontent, insisting a demand for her compliance. She'd seen him use that look on her brother growing up when he got into trouble and she herself hadn't seen it in years. Not since she tried to steal a hundred out of his wallet when he passed out in his office.

"Lay it on us, chief," Tony interjected, trying to pull attention from the two of them. He'd been around them enough to know when things were starting to escalate.

Maria tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before she spoke. "Well, Santana has her car, and they could pack a relatively large amount of things in that. The small furniture, luggage for clothes, and stuff like that. But there are larger things that can't fit.

"So we were thinking of renting a U-Haul the day they leave and driving it out there." She gestured for Mr. Lopez to take over.

"I thought you and I, Tony, could drive out there with the bigger stuff and then fly back. That way we could see the girls off."

"That sounds good to me," Tony said cheerfully. "I don't know how I feel about putting up money for a crap hole I've never seen."

Anna smacked him on the arm in chastisement and there was a round of laughter. Afterwards, she cut in.

"But what if I want to see them there too," she asked.

"Gees, you saps," Santana taunted. "Can't cut the cord?"

"I just want to know the two of you are safe," Anna retorted, giving her a playful scowl.

"I agree," Maria said. "But there's not enough room in a U-Haul for four people. At least not driving cross country.

"Well actually," Anna started. She looked up at Tony for a second and then across the table at Brittany. "We were thinking of giving you the Corolla, honey. It's older, but if you two are in different colleges, you can't count on one car to work."

"Are you serious," Brittany asked. Her jaw dropped as she went back and forth from Santana to her parents and occasionally up to Santana's parents even though they didn't have much input on that piece of information. "You're really serious?"

"I mean, only if you will let me give you some more driving lessons before you leave," Tony said warily. Santana could tell he didn't want to offend Brittany, but little did he know Brittany had the least amount of confidence in her driving than anyone did.

"Oh I don't care," she said. "I know I need it. I'm pretty much the reason they say girls can't drive."

Her joke made everyone quietly laugh; just enough to acknowledge the humor behind it without making her feel bad.

"But we're driving out there together," Santana added. "We decided that on the trip, remember?"

"Yes," Anna said, "but someone else has to drive Britt's car there."

Maria suddenly called out, "Shotgun!"

There was laughter again and they all exchanged smiles with each other. Santana knew having both of their parents getting them settled would make the transition easier, even if their departure would be all that much more painful when they were the ones leaving. She'd never had an easy time being separated from her mom and dad.

Victor, from the opposite end of the table, must have noticed her distressed grin because he caught her attention and drew enough attention to them that the rest of the table calmed down.

"Are you alright," he asked her gently.

Her voice came out soft, in a wrenched whisper, "Um, yeah." She nodded, feeling her features fall apart with her composure. "I just…"

Brittany's hand came up to rub her shoulder blades comfortingly.

She coughed to alleviate the weight on her chest and inwardly demanded that she get it together. The sympathetic looks on Tony and Anna's faces got to her in a way that sent her into an angry self-hatred. Santana didn't like being the victim after a year of it against her will.

Victor took the cues gracefully and instantly understood her in a way that she never knew he could. His smile was full of compassion and recognition that she knew whatever he said next was going to be just what she needed to hear. He always had a way of reading her for as little as they saw each other.

"Santana, your mom and I weren't necessarily around as much as we should have been," he said. "I could make excuses but that's all they would be, excuses. It wasn't right to leave you alone growing up like we did, but you never seemed to get into too much trouble and we never thought twice about it. But I think the three of us can realize what it's done to this family to have spent so many years apart. And I'm sorry, kid, I'm so sorry for that.

"You need to know that moving across the country to pursue your dreams isn't a bad thing. It's a wonderful thing and I would give up the world to make anything possible for you, even if it puts us that much farther apart. And just because you're gone living your life it doesn't mean we aren't still a family. It just means we have to work a lot harder to keep in contact; harder than we've ever worked, actually. I'm not giving you up the way your brother gave up on us."

With tears in her dark green eyes, Maria took Santana's hand in her own.

"We won't ever be like we were before," she continued. "We're a family." She looked over at Anna, Tony, and then next to her at Brittany. "A _huge_, wonderful family and we will start acting like one. More than you could imagine."

Tony shook his head at Maria in wonderment and gave her a kind smile. "Well said."

Santana coughed with her stare downcast and petulant. "But the four of you don't need to see us off. It's a little—"

"Don't S," Brittany interrupted. "I want them there and I know you do too, so don't try to be tough."

She looked up and saw her reddened eyes half-filled with tears, half-filled with adoration.

"I'm sorry. Big gestures aren't really…" She waved her hand around.

"…your thing," Brittany finished for her. She winked casually. "I gotcha."

From the long hallway and through the dining room, there was a rush of intermittent knocks on the hard wood of the front door. Some were light and rapid, others hard and deliberate. The room sat relatively still as everyone looked from one person to the other, trying to figure out who was expecting a visitor. Santana looked at Brittany for a second and lifted an eyebrow; none of their friends would have known where they were to her knowledge. All Brittany did was shrug and started to stand up from the table.

Santana jumped up too and grabbed her arm. "What, you're answering the door at _my_ house?" She teased, pulling her back and giving herself room to lead the way.

The two of them walked out of the dining room and softly treaded down the hallway as more knocks hurriedly fell against the door. It sparked an irritation in Santana that she knew only sourced from two people she knew. And when she reached the front door and unlocked it to reveal who was on the other side, Santana gave herself a pat on the back for having awesome 'friend-knock-determination' skills. She also decided to never say that out loud.

Noticing Brittany behind her, Kurt brushed past Santana forcefully and took the girl in his arms with almost as much haste as he had knocking on the door. Brittany giggled and hugged him back with a hesitant look on her face but Santana could tell she was enjoying it anyway. Kurt laughed and grabbed her by both forearms and coaxed her into adding a jump with their hug. When he started kissing her, alternating cheek to cheek, Santana finally felt like butting in, even if she had her own joyful smile.

"Whoa, whoa, lady face, don't make me smack you," she growled, pulling Brittany to her side.

Kurt didn't even acknowledge her. He just threw his arms around the two of them and pulled them into another hug.

"I'm sorry, Santana, but I'm so excited!" He chirped in the space behind them.

She pushed him off and about a foot away before she let her smile reposition and asked, "Excited for what?"

"Mrs. Pillsbury's friend came through!" He looked back and forth between them, without a doubt using the pause to build dramatic tension. "I got an interview for the internship at Vogue!"

Brittany shrieked his name and grabbed him for another body-crushing hug. "No way! Oh my god, Kurt!"

"I know! She emailed me and said all of the designs and my portfolio really impressed one of the editors. My dad and I are flying up there Monday for the interview. I couldn't have done this without you, Brittany! So I had to come and tell you first!"

"Wait, wait, how did you know we were here," Santana asked, running fingers through her hair.

He looked confused. "Well, Britt told me. She said you were over here with you parents and having….and oh wow, I'm interrupting dinner aren't I?"

Kurt stared down the hallway into the door of the dining room and saw Maria and Anna standing there watching the commotion with confused expressions of their own. He went back to Santana and Brittany and gritted his teeth.

"I'm so sorry, I totally forgot…"

"Who cares! I'm so proud of you!" Brittany leapt towards his chest and he caught her around the waist in another hug.

Santana watched them for a second, gave up her seemliness and joined their hug.

In a minute, her dad's voice boomed down the hallway and they all broke apart to watch him approach.

"Well, it seems we have something to celebrate," Victor exclaimed. He clapped Kurt on the back, sending him forward with an uneasy start towards the dining room.

"T-That's alright, sir, um, Mr. Lopez. I think I'm just going to let you all—"

"Nonsense! We're a cheery group." Santana and Brittany followed Victor into the dining room as he introduced Kurt to everyone. "Anna, Tony, I don't know if you've ever met this one."

Santana's expression scrunched and she tilted her head around her father. "Do you even know him?"

He regarded her and shrugged. "It's impolite to not introduce your guests."

"How about I handle that then," she taunted, gently shoving him away from Kurt and looking at her mom. "Mama, this is Kurt Hummel, he's in glee with us."

Brittany put her hands on her hips and smiled at Kurt, loving every second of the awkward exchange. Her mom knew Kurt but she wasn't quick at all to step in and say that, leaving Santana to introduce him to the rest of them, and Brittany loved her mom that much more.

"Mrs. P, Mr. P, I don't know if you know Kurt…" She scratched her head.

"Of course, sweetie," Anna said. She waved at him, finally, and put him a tiny bit at rest.

Santana knew Tony wouldn't be Tony if he didn't offer up some type of further humiliation.

Right on cue, he perked up.

"So, which one of them did you fool around with," he asked, crossing his fingers above the table.

"Anthony!" Anna yelled. She slapped him hard, for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Santana burst out laughing, burying her face in the shoulder of Kurt's blazer. "Oh my god, it's so funny when it's not directed at me," she got out between chest-burning laughs.

"Neither," Kurt claimed. His eyes darted to Brittany for assistance but she was laughing almost as hard as Santana.

"Good," Tony said, smiling. "I like that answer."

Santana saw her mom return from the kitchen—she was too busy laughing to see her come back—with a glass of iced tea for Kurt. She thought she must have missed a whole exchange through her laughter.

"How about a toast then," Victor said, swiping his glass of wine off the table. Santana and Brittany moved to pick up their drinks along with the rest of the adults.

Santana still snickered under her breath as her dad grabbed Kurt around the shoulder and held him to his side. It was completely harmless and Kurt seemed to be growing more and more comfortable by the second. She guessed the height of the awkwardness had already passed for him with Brittany's dad's comment.

"To this young man, who I'm meeting for the very first time, but still have proud feelings of accomplishment for. For, for…what did you do again?"

Kurt twisted his head over and mumbled, "I got an interview for an internship." His regality had come back and Santana watched his diva-like sensibility snap into place.

"Right," her dad grumbled. "For Kurt, who stirred up an opportunity that will carry him on to his wildest dreams!"

Brittany sauntered over to Santana and hooked an arm through hers. She whispered, "You're dad has a way with words."

"I think he's just really drunk," she retorted.

Brittany snickered.

Her father's gruff voice swayed in their direction and caught her attention back with stunning clarity and purpose. "To Brittany, for fighting for what she wants and proving that dedication is all goals really need. And to my daughter," he grinned at her, "for creating a life for herself that she actually wants, out of what has been what could only be called 'unfortunate circumstances.' Cheers."

There was a chorus of 'Cheers' and everyone took a large gulp of their drinks, except for Santana and Victor. She was too much in awe of her father, who for the second time in her life told her how proud of her he was. And any moment like that in her life she knew was worth paying significant attention to.

Her dad smiled, large and pleased, his cheek dimples appearing out of the tanned flesh reminding her too much of herself. She raised her cup in another moment and drowned it down, feeling entirely too happy and content.

* * *

><p>The main hallway in McKinley was practically empty. Every few seconds there were scattered students going to the bathroom or skipping classes but at that particular moment, it was completely empty. Empty except for Rachel, who was following a cryptic text message to Quinn's locker. It came halfway through homeroom and told her to show up at Quinn's locker at eight forty-five exactly, so that's exactly what she did. But when she arrived at the right row of lockers, she found nothing. Nobody, to be more specific, but a bright pink post-it that caught her attention from the door of the locker.<p>

_Close your eyes or you'll ruin the surprise._

The rhyme wasn't lost on her, but she did as the note requested and promptly shut her eyes. Aside from the slight irritation of having been told to meet Quinn at her locker and then the girl not being there, she had a giddy tingle in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't had a lot of opportunities to see Quinn that week—every day after school she claimed to be busy helping her mom and disappeared until late in the evening when it was already too late for them to see each other—and an unexpected game of hide-and-seek was thrilling in her lonely mind. It brought the promise of getting to see Quinn at the end.

With her eyes shut she only heard the light pattering of footsteps every now and then that signaled someone walking past her. She wondered how dumb she looked standing with her eyes closed in the middle of the hallway and hoped that none of her teachers would happen to be walking by. It would be just like Ms. Pillsbury to walk by and observe her acting strange and initiate some sort of intervention about odd behaviors and mental health.

At last, she felt rather than heard footfalls coming closer to her and prayed they weren't someone coming to take advantage of the situation and slushie her. When a warm hand took her elbow and turned her around, she figured an offender wouldn't be that tender.

"I expected you to open your eyes when I turned you around." Quinn's voice pulsed through her and she sighed.

"I'm very good at following directions and I figured since you asked me to close them, you would tell me when I should open them," Rachel explained. She could feel Quinn's fingernails lightly tracing her elbow and shuddered. She didn't mind keeping her eyes shut at all with that kind of attention.

The space around her head felt warmer and she was startled to hear Quinn's words fall right on her ear. "You're adorable."

"You're making me impatient," she argued.

Quinn breathed out one 'ha' and then let go of her elbow. Rachel instantly regretted reprimanding her.

"Alright, well, open them whenever you like."

"Wait! You didn't dye your hair again did you?"

"Mhm," Quinn teased and Rachel could imagine her swinging her head around, mocking her. "Green and blue and orange. I dyed yours while you had your eyes shut too."

"Well as long as I got a good color."

"I thought periwinkle was cute enough." Quinn chuckled and tugged on Rachel's shoulder. "C'mon open them."

She followed the instruction and slowly slid her lids open, taking in Quinn in front of her and gasping in a choked breath of air. "W-What?"

In strict red, white, and black, her hair tied back in a neat ponytail that was bound tightly with hairpins that trapped the escaped bunches of her short hair, Quinn was wearing a Cheerio's uniform and grinning from ear to ear. "How does it look? Coach gave it to me this morning after our meeting."

Rachel couldn't believe what she was seeing. She wasn't just confused or surprised, but she could not put the image right in her head. She was far beyond judging Quinn's appearance because she couldn't even reconcile the full picture without an explanation.

"You're on the Cheerio's again," she got out, still stumbling over her words.

"Lawrence gave me the go ahead and I went to her last Friday to see if it was a possibility," Quinn said. "I just wanted to, you know, see if I could still do it. I was at practice all week. Nothing special, I'm just sort of dancing in the back, but I'm still on the squad."

"I'm sorry, but I really don't understand. You said Cheerio's was all about the popularity. That's why you quit it for glee club."

Quinn shrugged and straightened the bottom of her top. "I still liked cheering, Rach. You don't just do something like that for years and not enjoy it even a little."

"But what are you doing this for?" Suddenly the conversation Brittany and Santana were having behind her in glee the day before occurred to her and she grabbed Quinn's hands. "You're competing this weekend? How could you not tell me? You're leaving in like an hour!"

Quinn paused and Rachel could see her biting the inside of her cheek. That gave her the feeling that she wasn't not told for it to only be a surprise but for some reason bigger and more important.

"Quinn," she prompted.

"Look, you're going to Columbus for your NYADA audition and I'm doing thi,s so we are both busy, really."

"Quinn."

"This is important to me," Quinn said assertively. "And I didn't want you to be thinking about it all week and psyching yourself out."

That made her even more confused. "Thinking about what?"

"Look, Rachel, when I used to wear this uniform I wasn't a good person. No one knows that more than you and I didn't want you to think that for some reason, putting it back on would make me that person again."

Rachel frowned and slid her fingers between the ones on the hands she was still holding. "Quinn…"

"You just didn't need this to worry about before tomorrow and I couldn't hide for a whole weekend so I needed to tell you. I know you're probably upset that I kept it from you but I needed to do this for me, and I'm not really sorry." Rachel laughed at her but she kept rambling, not having noticed. "I just don't want you to think I'm regressing or something." Quinn's eyes were on the tile floor and all of the enthusiasm that had been in her figure had somehow drifted away, nonexistent.

"That's all really nice," Rachel finally told her. "But do I get a chance to say what I'm _actually_ thinking?"

Quinn looked up at her and wiped a hand over her face to clear up the resonating irritation with herself. "Yeah, of course."

"Well, to answer your first question, you look incredibly hot and I'm having a really hard time concentrating past that." Quinn smirked and squeezed their fingers. "But also I understand, Quinn. I really understand. And I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me."

Quinn pushed forward and leaned her forehead against Rachel's. "You don't have to be sorry. I hate when you apologize to me."

Rachel could feel her whole body relax and released her fingers to wrap her arms around Quinn's waist in a hug. "That's ridiculous."

"I don't want you to ever be sorry."

"That's not particularly healthy," Rachel declared. "I'm sure I'll make mistakes."

Quinn sighed, her breath hitting Rachel's lips and pulled back. A strand of Rachel's bangs stuck to her forehead. "This is okay?"

"You don't have to ask permission to do something that will make you happy. And like you said, I have my audition and I won't be thinking about this at all."

Quinn laughed and pinched Rachel's shoulder.

"I'm only saying."

Before she could say anything else, Quinn kissed her quick, their lips meeting for just a few seconds.

Quinn stepped back and looked at Rachel fully. "Wanna walk me to the bus?"

Rachel couldn't think of anything she'd rather do. "Sure. Although you're making me skip class, I'll let it slide for the occasion."

Quinn smirked, took Rachel's hand, and led her down the hallway. "Whatever, we're seniors. They can suck it."

Rachel laughed out into the open hallway and shook her head. "That was very eloquent."

"Eh, I'll let you be the eloquent one." They were in stride, heading for the front door. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

Rachel tilted her head left and right. "Sort of. I know exactly what I'm going to do, I just need to do it well."

"I'm sure it will be perfect."

Rachel hopped up when her left foot hit the floor and kissed Quinn's cheek as they continued to walk. "Thanks."

"Well well, what do we have here?" Azimio came out of the connecting hallway and cut the two of them off from reaching the front doors. There were a few lingering Cheerio's who noticed the exchange and Rachel could feel them watching them. Just watching.

"What the hell do you want, Z?"

"Someone texted me and let me know two of the school's most recent lesbos were cutting class. Wanted to see if I could get in on the action." He leered at them, taking a step forward that had Quinn ushering Rachel behind her. "I didn't know you were a Cheerio again, Q. That makes this all the more fun."

Quinn stepped up to him and glared. "Get out of here."

He pushed her back by the shoulder. "No need to get so hostile."

Rachel saw a lumbering figure out of the corner of her eye and in a second, Azimio was against a set of lockers.

Finn put his on Azimio's chest and pushed him back aggressively. "Leave them alone."

"Chill out, 'Dudson,' it was just a joke."

"Yeah? You will be too if you even _think_ about putting another hand on a girl. Especially one of them."

"Aw, protective over the two girls who turned you down for each other? That's got to hit a nerve. None of us thought you could be even more of a loser."

Finn grunted and pushed against Azimio again before stepping back and pointing down the hallway he'd come from. "Go or I'll get Coach Beiste and tell her how you assaulted two teenage girls."

"Whatever, faggot. No wonder you couldn't keep two of the hottest girls in the school. You're just a pussy."

"Go!" Finn ordered.

Azimio straightened his letterman jacket and glared at all of them. Rachel didn't even feel safe still behind Quinn and holding onto her hips. He finally left and Finn made sure he was gone before turning back to them.

"You guys alright?"

Quinn clenched her jaw and stepped forward. "We're fine."

"He didn't?"

"Fine, Finn."

Rachel stepped around Quinn and hugged him. She couldn't stop herself even if she knew it would make Quinn uncomfortable. It had to be done.

She could feel the way his hands hesitantly landed on her back in very specific position, wary of Quinn standing right there, but she hugged him as much as she wanted because he had just come to their defense, no matter what spin anyone could put on it.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his chest.

"It's whatever," he grumbled.

Rachel moved away from him and shook her head. "It's not whatever. There were a whole group of people watching who didn't do anything and you didn't have to either."

"No," he said. "I did. I would have done it for anyone, but I think the two of you know why I had to do it. I have a lot to make up for."

Rachel glanced back at Quinn and made a face at her to say something. She didn't have to like Finn, but when the moment called for it—and it really did—she could say something.

"It was the least you could do," she said and Rachel glared at her.

"She means thank you," Rachel commented, walking back to stand beside her.

"No, I understand," Finn said. "She doesn't owe me anything. If anything I owe her."

Rachel rolled her eyes and blew a stream of air out of her nose. "This is such a fun thing the three of us do."

"Oh come on, Rach," Quinn pulled her into her side, "if we weren't almost assaulted by a football player and helped by our ex-boyfriend we wouldn't be us."

Finn cracked a smile and shook his head at them. "I have to get back to class."

"Where were you going that you saw us," Rachel asked, realizing there wasn't a good reason for him to be playing hall-monitor.

He grabbed the back of his neck and looked around the hall in avoidance. "I was, uh, in the bathroom…"

"Pooping?"

He nodded. "Pooping."

Quinn sniggered and Rachel couldn't believe the two of them.

"You're like a five year old."

Quinn shrugged while Finn was still unsurely scanning the hallway. "Yeah, well, gotta go."

He was about to leave but stopped himself right before he went around the corner. "Rachel."

She looked up at him in his letterman jack and quirked a smile in question of his own goofy smirk. "Yeah?"

"If you had an animal sweater on, the three of us would be just like old times."

Quinn walked forward and put her arm Rachel and shouted, "Don't encourage that!"

He waved and walked down the hallway, leaving them in the front lobby of the school. Santana and Brittany were walking bags through the front door when Quinn led Rachel to the front steps.

"I'll call you the second we land," Quinn said earnestly.

"You better."

Rachel hooked her arms around Quinn's neck which was easier to do since she was a full step down. She leaned in and kissed her lips, then her cheek, and then her nose.

"Love you."

Rachel chuckled. "Love you too. Be safe."

"Yeah." Quinn kissed her again quick and then walked away heading for the bus.

Rachel watched her meet Santana and Brittany, who both turned to her and waved—Brittany waved, Santana just kind of gave her the finger—before climbing onto the bus.

* * *

><p>An entire floor was rented out for the Cheerio's to stay in Orlando for the competition. After a three hour practice in one of the reception areas of the hotel, the girls were ordered to their room and commanded by Sue to rest up. Brittany was pretty sure it had something to do with how well everything was going that she wasn't overly torturing them and ordering them to do something easy was her version of a reward. She wasn't complaining at all because with Quinn and Santana in her room she had the opportunity to get homework done without feeling like she was ignoring Santana. Every few minutes she would pull Quinn's attention to get help on something but it didn't matter to the two of them who were practicing to make sure Quinn had all of the moves down for the competition. Coach Sylvester hadn't seen anything she didn't like but that didn't mean they were ready to accept defeat for any little thing. They hadn't been the three top Cheerio's for nothing.<p>

Quinn fell on Brittany and Santana's double bed after they finished a routine and grabbed her leg over the gym shorts she had on. Santana went over and frowned down at her as Brittany watched the two of them interact like she was watching animals behind a glass window.

"What's wrong," Santana asked, hunching over her.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, idiot, just tell me."

Brittany smirked at the two of them and the hidden concern under Santana's remark. She found the two of them incredibly adorable.

"My leg just hurts," Quinn growled. She covered her sweat-drenched forehead with her arm and grinded her teeth. "Just hurts a lot."

Santana did her best to inspect it without touching and threw her hands on her hips. "It's probably just a cramp from using muscles that aren't super-healed yet."

"Is that a doctor's diagnosis," Quinn taunted, still visibly in pain.

"You know what, smart ass? I'm gonna get you some ice, even though you damn well don't deserve it."

Brittany laughed and went back to work on her math assignment. It was a series of extra-credit word problems that her teacher gave her that morning and she needed it to be done by Monday. That and her two hundred point history project on World War II. Quinn had helped her get most of the research done earlier that week, but she still had to organize it all into a powerpoint and prepare the presentation.

The bed next to her dipped and she turned to Santana hovering next to her.

"Yes?"

Santana invaded her headspace and laid a kiss on her nose. "Do you need anything?"

"Nope."

"I'll be right back." Santana kissed her and then walked out of the room, kicking Quinn's sneakered-foot as she walked by.

"Yeah," Quinn groaned as she left. "She's going to get me ice for my hurt leg but kicking it is completely okay. _Makes sense._"

Brittany laughed and dropped her binder to the bed. She crawled forward and lay next to Quinn, propped up on her elbow. "Don't act like you hate her, Q. I know all your secrets."

"No, I don't hate her."

Brittany heard the air of wistfulness that echoed behind her friend's words and it sparked an interest in her that hadn't been on her mind for weeks.

"Hey," she nudged Quinn's shoulder, grabbing her attention. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, B." Quinn smiled at her, strands of hair scattered across her face with no thoughts given to them.

"You're going to miss us, right? When you get to Yale and meet all those smarty-pants people, you're still going to think about us?"

"Yes, Brittany." Quinn rolled up onto her side and stared at her. "Why would you ask me that? You two are my best friends, of course I'm going to miss you. More than anything."

"You and Santana…" she tried to find a way to communicate what she was thinking without sounding dumb. "You two just don't ever talk about it. I'm scared when it comes time to finally leave one of you is going to freak out or something."

Quinn watched her with a lazy smile and rolled her eyes. "B, Santana and I haven't ever been like that. We don't talk like you and I do or the two of you. On the rare occasion we can get sentimental, but not when it doesn't matter."

Brittany sat up and stared down at her. "It does matter, Q," she insisted. "That's what I'm trying to tell you! You can't just pretend it's not happening."

Quinn sat up, warily because of her leg, and put her hands on Brittany's shoulders. "I'm not doing that. Santana might be, but I'm not. I know we're leaving soon, but I'm not worried about it. Okay?"

Brittany could feel the defensiveness rolling off of Quinn in turbulent waves and saw through almost everything she was saying. She didn't understand why after all of the time they'd known each other, Quinn and Santana thought they could get away with not telling her the full truth. Quinn might not have been pretending that their separation wasn't happening, but Brittany could tell she was definitely worried about it. And if it weren't for the beeping of a keycard letting Santana back into the room, she would have drug it out of her.

* * *

><p>Rachel was sitting with Kurt and Blaine in the Lima Bean when Quinn's text came through. Her heart sped up and she already couldn't contain her smile before the message even loaded.<p>

**(6:32 PM) Quinn:** We just passed semi-finals! We have one more competition tomorrow and Sue's pretty confident we're gonna win :) Please, please tell me your audition went well?

Rachel smiled to herself, ignoring the boys as they continued discussing the outfits for National's.

_There was a line of people outside the convention center in Columbus. Leroy and Hiram led Rachel up the steps but abandoned her at the front door, saying she needed to accomplish it on her own. She hugged the both of them and headed to the back of the line. She didn't recognize any of the other applicants but she focused more on keeping her head in the right place. Her years of preparation, her life actually, led to that moment and she felt the weight of the moment trying to infringe on her but she blocked it out and concentrated on what she had to do to win. Well, audition, actually, but the thought felt the same._

_On the inside she saw the huddled masses of people in their stupor of failure or basking in the success of getting a good comment. She had researched the women conducting the auditions, Carmen Tibideaux, and realized that on the other side of the auditorium doors sat one of her future professors. She knew she needed to make the best impression and mentally threaded that into her composure. _

_An hour later she was walking onto the stage, handing her sheet music to the band. She figured they would know Don't Rain on My Parade, but she wouldn't risk the opportunity that they didn't. Out in the seats she saw the older woman regarding her with a clipboard. _

_Fifteen minutes later she was sitting against the wall outside the auditorium doors. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her limbs and needed a moment to collect herself on the floor. If she looked past some of the critiques of her posture and her 'regular' song choice, she was sure the woman had complemented her. And it was to be said that she __**never**_ _complimented.  
><em>

_It was a weird feeling to realize all of her planning had led her in the right direction. All of the dedication and persistence meant something in the long run. Even if for years she had played host to plenty of people insulting her talent and degrading her, she knew that finally, __**finally**__, she was being rewarded. And to her nothing felt more weird and wonderful, but she knew whatever it felt like was good, because she had actually done it._

**(6:35 PM):** Better than you could imagine :)

* * *

><p>Santana watched Quinn pace back and forth behind the group of Cheerio's gathered backstage. She could feel the tension and knew that even if she tried, nothing would calm her down. So while Quinn paced, she stood beside Brittany and watched, unsure of their standing in the final competition.<p>

Quinn had fallen to the back of the squad with a remarkable grace that no one saw coming. Sue ordered her and she listened. Santana ordered her and she listened, if only a little bit more stubbornly. There wasn't a second of disobedience or claims to her long-forgotten position at the top. Quinn took her position and did what she could; and Santana couldn't do much other than watch.

They were waiting for the results. The last routine had been performed—off without a hitch in her opinion. But if Quinn was pacing, and she was, something had to have gone wrong. It's something she'd done years ago when something was off in the routine right before Sue burdened them with miles to run or drills for every mistake that was made. But Santana was the captain and she didn't see anything off. Sue wasn't beating up an official for intimidation which meant she didn't think something was wrong either, but Quinn obviously did and that bothered her.

The other squad was glaring at them, knowing how obviously they were defeated. That was Santana's favorite part of competition. She knew they deserved to win; no team was really put through as much torture and practice as Sue dictated.

They were conditioned to be the best.

And when the announcer came on the P.A. machine and named them national champions for the third time, she wasn't surprised in the slightest.

The Cheerio's screamed and cheered, racing each other to the podium. Brittany jumped on Santana's back and locked her legs around her waist, grabbing Quinn's arm and pulling them all together towards the trophy.

Twenty minutes later, Santana was holding the National's trophy above their heads with Quinn and Brittany each offering a hand and she turned to Quinn for a brief second. All of her stress was still there and Santana still couldn't figure out why.

Finally, when they were walking out of the room, Brittany clasping her hand tight and Quinn on her opposite side, Santana turned to her and asked, "What the hell is your deal? Why are you all freaked out? We won."

Quinn gave her a dazed look and squinted in wonder. "Do you think Rachel go into NYADA?"

Santana stopped walking and stared at Quinn for a long minute. Brittany hovered between them, tugging on her arm to start them moving to no avail. When a whistle blew somewhere behind them, Santana snapped to action and punched Quinn in the arm as hard as she could.

Quinn cried out in pain and yelled, "What the hell?"

"You almost gave me a stress-induced heart attack, you fucking sap!"

Brittany laughed and pulled Santana along, Quinn following in tow. She was still fuming and Quinn acknowledged that by keeping a relative distance from them.

"It's a valid question," she mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for Santana to hear.

When Santana turned a glare towards her, she took off in a jog and weaved through the crowd of people. Santana dropped Brittany's hand and dove after her, determined to take her down. _'To hell with her hurt leg,'_ she thought, racing forward.

* * *

><p>The Monday when they got back from Florida, Santana and Brittany had trouble pulling themselves out of bed. But since Brittany had papers and a project to turn in, they knew skipping wasn't really an option.<p>

They walked the halls with a high that only came from winning a competition and lorded it over everyone they passed, glee-clubbers and jocks alike. The two of them were at the top of the world and nothing could pull them down.

Not until Coach Sylvester's voice raked down the middle of the hallway and ordered them into her office.

Santana glared down the hallway and then faced Brittany with a defeated scowl on her face. "For fuck's sake, can't we ever have one day without being shit on?"

"That's a horrible euphemism…"

Santana's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Quinn had me doing vocabulary on the plane back for my English paper. Did I not say it right?."

"No, that's awesome, B."

"Santana! Get your and Brittany's asses in my office, now!"

"Fuck, let's go," she drawled, grabbing Brittany's hand and pulling her along.

They were halfway there when Brittany's head darted to the side. "Did she call us our names?"

"Shit. Why do I feel like this is gonna be worse now?"

Brittany shrugged as they reached the doorway and pushed Santana through first. She earned herself a glare but ignored it and saw Coach Sylvester standing in front of her desk, arms crossed, like a statue.

"Shut the door, Brittany."

Brittany did as she was told and then followed Santana to a seat in one of the chairs about a foot from where Sue was standing. She tried to not look scared but years of being yelled at and ordered around had her knowledgeably afraid of those chairs.

"I remember the day you two tried out."

Santana flashed a look at Brittany that could only mean, _"Is she really reminiscing right now?"_

"Brittany you were astonishing," Sue started to compliment her, but immediately followed it with, "for a freshman."'

"And Santana I knew you were going to take a little more beating in, but I saw the potential."

"Thanks, Coach," Brittany squeaked, a little disturbed by what was happening.

"Don't interrupt."

"Sorry…"

Sue uncrossed her arms and rounded her desk, dropping into the high-backed chair. She crossed her fingers on her desk as she looked at them and then smirked.

"We couldn't have won these past few years without the two of you. Even if you were frequently insubordinate and genuinely untrustworthy, I want you to know that I appreciate what you brought to this squad. And it's a shame that the two of you are leaving, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

She paused and Santana guessed she had the opportunity to respond if she wanted to, but Brittany beat her to it.

"You helped me get into college, Coach," Brittany said, news to Santana's ears. "I know we are mean sometimes, but I appreciate you too."

"It's because I believe in you," Sue told her. "The both of you. That day when you two showed up on my football field, I was ready to call it quits. I had enough Cheerio's for a full team and auditioning any more felt like a waste of my precious time. Until you two showed up."

"Thanks, Coach," Santana answered, smiling. She didn't think she'd ever see the day.

"I'm going to extend to you a one-time thing and I don't want it to be ever spoken of outside of this office, you understand me?" Sue stood up from the desk and walked back to her spot in front of them to assert her question.

They both nodded in unison, ever a condition of being in Sue's presence and she grinned.

"How about a hug?"

Brittany was out of her seat before Sue had the chance to open her arms all the way. Santana watched her cheek move up in a grin as Brittany hugged her around the middle and slowly got to her feet and approached the woman cautiously.

"C'mon, jugs, this is the one time I promise no fatal injuries will result from coming into contact with me," Sue said in what Santana figured was her idea of a joke.

She walked closer and joined the hug, putting one arm behind Sue and feeling the woman's arms close around the two of them. Santana melted into the embrace, happy for something she never knew she wanted and hugged her Coach tighter.

"I'm so proud of the two of you," Sue pronounced heartily. "I always have been."

Santana and Brittany finally felt like years of routines and workouts and sweat had been worth something. Santana briefly wondered if Sue really felt that way about all of her Cheerio's but decided against lingering on the thought too long, happy to consider herself an exception. After all, she'd never heard any other Cheerio say they got a hug from the monster Sue Sylvester.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just wanted to tie up some things. Thanks :)**


	59. we made it, right?

At the back of the choir room, Brittany sat perched in Santana's lap. Her legs were sideways, feet resting up on the seat of the chair next to her and she had her head down on the shoulder of Santana's grey championship hoodie. She had snuggled into the spot when Mr. Schuester decided they would spend the day working on the mechanics of Rachel's solo, since the rest of the choreography had been worked out overall, mostly with her assistance. She felt an hour of rest in between last-resort classes was the best way to spend the period.

Santana didn't seem to care all that much, fixated on watching Rachel and studying her performance in an almost obsessive way. Brittany hadn't thought twice about it because she knew it had more to do with Santana than it did with Rachel. She knew there was a drive to be as good as the best, like Rachel, deep within her girlfriend, even if she kept it buried under insults and sarcasm. It made complete sense that when presented with the opportunity to watch someone Brittany had only recently realized she thought was great, Santana would pay complete attention.

And that worked out for Brittany, who just needed Santana's warmth to lull her into sleep for the majority of the meeting.

Instead of drifting off completely, she concentrated her hearing to what was going on around their huddled bodies and listened to the preparation for National's. That way if something important happened, she wouldn't have to nag for notes afterwards.

For the first fifteen minutes there was only the sound of Rachel warming up at the head of the room. Brittany imagined there were other conversations going on underneath the powerful scales, but to the best of her hearing ability there wasn't anything detectable.

She buried her nose harder into Santana's neck after a minute and released a warm jet of air onto the flesh in front of her nose. Santana fidgeted, readjusting her and shivering like the breeze had tickled and Brittany solidified her hand on Santana's chest.

When the scales stopped, Brittany picked up on a pen scratching wildly across paper from the seat in front of her and pictured Quinn putting last minute touches on a story for her creative writing class or creating another batch of practice problems for Brittany's upcoming math test. Quinn had been on her for the last couple days more adamantly than before about the next test because it was her last and one of the final opportunities for bringing her grade up where it needed to be.

The pen moved thoroughly across the page and she combined its noise with Santana's light humming and Rachel's flats slapping against the floor as she moved around at the front of the class. Brittany was almost settled about letting herself fall asleep when something changed and she heard another voice cut against Rachel's singing.

"Everyone, listen up!" Mr. Schuester commanded the room and she heard him overtake what little commotion had been going on. "I've been thinking about the Troubletones number."

Santana tensed underneath Brittany and she could hear her heartbeats thumping more rapidly as he left a pause in his announcement. Brittany didn't feel the need to perk up, comfortable with listening only and staying where she was.

"This competition is our last hurrah, our last chance to all sing together as a team." Brittany pictured his goofy smile directed across the bottom row from Finn to Artie. "And I don't want anyone to feel left out, particularly for Edge of Glory. So that's why I want Quinn and Tina to join that number."

The scratching pen stopped and amidst the clamor of voices, Quinn spoke up. Brittany didn't have to try hard at all to notice the anguish and indecision in her tone as she cut him down.

"I can't learn that this quickly. I'm still having trouble walking…"

Santana spoke around Brittany's body, "You learned our Cheerio's routine."

The heaviness of Quinn's voice changed and Brittany guessed she had turned to scowl at Santana.

"Yeah and I'm still feeling the effects of overdoing it now, S. I just don't think it's a good idea."

Santana slumped in the chair and Brittany had to accommodate to make sure she didn't fall off her lap. There was always a huge part of Santana that worried immensely about Quinn and there wasn't an easier way to identify it, Brittany thought, then by being on top of her and feeling the physical toll she put on her body.

"Well I can't work Tina into the formation if you don't do it, Quinn," Mr. Schuster said. "It throws the balance off."

"Please, Mr. Schue. I'm fine with not doing it." Tina, from the far side of the room, was forcing her words and had the trace of a barely there smile in her words.

"Real nice," Santana growled. "Make Quinn feel guilty."

"I just don't want her to look back and regret not pushing herself—"

"She got in a car accident," Rachel thundered from somewhere near him.

"I'm aware of that," he said airily.

"Right," Santana asserted. "You just don't think it matters."

"You're out of line."

Brittany held more tightly to Santana's neck when she tensed as a signal to stop and let it go. It wasn't worth fighting with the teacher when they all should have been practicing, especially that close to a competition. If Quinn didn't want to be in the performance, she didn't see why it had to be a huge deal for everyone to have an opinion about. Even if it sucked for Tina, Brittany knew she could understand what the problem was. She was Quinn's friend as much as anyone.

"You know what," Quinn stated, her voice more commanding and resolute than they'd heard in a while, "I'll do it. And not because I want to, or because I think I can, but for you, Mr. Schue, because apparently the only thing that matters anymore is winning."

"That's not what I meant—"

"No," Quinn argued. "It's because you think that I'm being selfish by not wanting to hurt myself for the good of the team. So you know what I'll do it. Fuck, not even for you, for Tina."

"Y-You really don't have to do that, Quinn. I get it," Tina said timidly.

"No, I'm doing it. End of story."

"So fuckin' _proud_," Santana muttered under her breath and Brittany pinched her. She knew Santana was right and the only thing that propelled their friend into forcing herself into performing was the fact that everyone else might think less of her for not. Quinn was more or less predictable to Brittany, same with Santana, and Rachel most of the time too. Her friends were different in a lot of ways but they all remained essentially the same, scattered personalities they'd always been. Quinn was too proud, Santana was too afraid, and Rachel was too obstinate.

Santana sent a kick to Quinn's chair in front of her, jolting Brittany, and laughed.

"Good for you."

"Shut up," Quinn retorted.

"Alright then," Mr. Schuster said.

In a huff and irritated voice, Brittany heard Rachel's flats hitting the floor again as she moved closer to the front of the risers, and said, "Can we get back to me?"

Brittany laughed into Santana's collar and kissed her neck, happy to always be right.

* * *

><p>Santana nudged the back of Brittany's thigh with her foot in an attempt to knock her over. It was actually attempt three or four as the night went on because every time Brittany objected to what she was seeing on the television she started upwards, shins into the comforter on Santana's bed, and pointed vehemently at the screen. They were watching the series finale of <em>Make it or Break it<em>, which actually meant Brittany watched and Santana played angry birds on her phone. She hated the damn show; gymnastics were the least interesting plot point a show could have, other than the Olympics which she totally didn't count because they were at least entertaining. Especially when people fell.

During the final commercial break, Santana rolled into a fluffy, green pillow and curled her body against Brittany's closest thigh, which had come to a rest after her heated objections died down during the break. She tried her best to keep warm in the gym shorts and tanktop she was sporting after coming home from the library, absolutely refusing to get under the blankets when it was near eighty outside. They spent a good majority of their afternoon after school in the Lima Public Library because it was the only place the four of them, Quinn and Rachel included, could agree on that didn't have certain distractions for each person.

She and Rachel spent the couple hours researching celebrities with questionable sexualities and wreaking terror on the recent histories of each desktop computer while Brittany took a practice quiz Quinn made up for her the night before. Occasionally, Santana dropped by their table to call Quinn a slave-driver or protest that Brittany didn't pay her a cent for the tutoring; that worked until Rachel caught on and took her away to find snack machines. They mandated a twenty-minute snack break and Santana felt bad that they didn't find anything good for Rachel to eat that was vegan-friendly. And to make matters worse, when she tried to stop off to pick the girl up something to eat on the way home, Brittany and Quinn teased her so much when the lady was handing her food through the window she dropped a lemonade on her uniform.

She was glad to be out of cheer-season or else Coach Sylvester would've been greatly reconsidering her appreciation for her.

After debate of Rachel swearing to afford the cleaning service for the uniform—Santana kindly told her to shut her mouth and that she could throw it away since she stole extras after they quit the year before with total spite—she dropped them off at their respective houses and took Brittany back to hers to change, before driving back to Brittany's.

TV wasn't something they normally did together anymore with so much going on in Cheerio's, glee club, and tutoring, but on one of the first nights where they could just relax, watching a show Brittany adored and Santana thought was crap sounded absolutely perfect.

Brittany peered over her shoulder and then fell backwards with a goofy-grin, landing on the same pillow Santana had curled into. Her nose nuzzled softly the skin on Santana's forehead. She laid a kiss on the same point and then burrowed down and gazed into her eyes.

"They are _ruining_ the ending of this show," Brittany said suddenly, the vigor appearing in her eyes for a second again.

Santana's lips curled back in a smile and she emphatically rolled her eyes.

"They did that by starting it."

Brittany knocked her knees into Santana's and sat back up just in time for the show to come on. It was a mix of adorable and disconcerting to Santana how invested Brittany seemed to be into a show none of her immediate friends talked about. ABC Family had Pretty Little Liars and that was about the best they could do, anything else was just a boring waste of time. But the ferocity with which the screen held her girlfriend's focus meant she'd keep that observation forever to herself. Some things just weren't worth fighting about.

Just after what appeared to be another _shocking_ development, Brittany started speaking without turning her attention away from the TV.

"Are you spending the night?"

Santana clicked her teeth. She wanted more than anything to spend the night, especially that night, although that's how she felt almost every night lying in either of their beds. That didn't matter because for the first time in what felt like forever, she actually had an assignment to complete for her Women and Minorities class. On a side note, it was a total slap in the face for her history teacher, Mrs. Grees, to recommend the class since they'd never had a prior conversation and it was ultimately an offensive suggestion. She'd learned to just roll with the politically-incorrect punches until they were out of Lima. If it ever occurred elsewhere she knew there would be hell to pay.

"I can't I have Grees' paper due tomorrow. I still have like a page of shit to do."

With tears in her eyes as the final black screen fell on her show, Brittany turned around. Her appearance was completely heartbroken and Santana had to remind herself that it had to do with the ending and not her disappointing news. Tear-streaked cheeks made her heart miss a beat and she almost wanted to say 'fuck you' to the paper. Until, she again reminded herself it wasn't about her.

"Cool, well I need to get some sleep anyway. I have a meeting with," Brittany wiped some of her tears away although her voice was still blubbery, "Ms. Hagburg to turn in some work. Are you leaving?"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't let Brittany be crying without doing something, even if it had no solid reason to make her upset.

"B, are you alright? Cause I'm having a hard time separating this from me not spending the night."

Brittany choked a hard laugh and then rolled farther into her. "I'm fine."

Santana picked up the pillow case and wiped off her face, clearing it.

"I just hate when things end permanently. They're super sad."

'_How is she this cute,'_ Santana thought, kissing her girl's forehead.

"It's just a TV show," she said. "In the fall you'll have a ton of new ABC Family crap to pick from."

Brittany knocked her knees into Santana's again and then sat herself upright on the bed. She got up and walked across the room, snagging the remote from the desk, and flipped the television off.

Santana got up and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from Brittany's dresser and slipped them up over her legs. There was a hoodie on the back of the desk chair and she crossed the room, meeting Brittany in the middle and kissing her softly, to pick it up and put it on.

"You could totally stay here and do your paper," Brittany suggested. The way she said it was full of implication and desire to keep her there, but she knew that was a bad idea.

"Babe, I can barely get things done by myself."

"So…"

She grabbed Brittany's neck and kissed her, hard. The arms around her waist brought them together at a perfect height and she moaned when the tip of Brittany's tongue pressed between her lips. There was a hand pulling down the front zipper of the hoodie until she grabbed it and stepped back.

"As much as I'd like that, I gotta go."

Brittany shrugged with a devilish smirk gracing her rosy cheeks. "Can't blame me for tryin."

She kissed her again, lightly, not giving her a second to incite anything past the growing ache already growing between her legs. "Wouldn't ever."

She ran her fingertips down Brittany's arm and hooked their fingers together. "Walk me to the door?"

"Your car door or the house door? It's pretty cold outside," Brittany teased, mockingly contemplating her own question.

Santana rolled her eyes and pinched Brittany's fingers with the nails holding her hand. "C'mon dork."

* * *

><p>After school the following day, Brittany and Quinn were loading their bags onto the back seats of the bus when they got unexpected news in the form of Sue Sylvester climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Sam, Tina, Sugar, and Blaine were already in seats and joking around, until, like Quinn and Brittany, they were startled by the appearance of what could be called, for lack of a better word, glee club's biggest enemy. And minutes later when Mr. Schuester climbed the steps with no complaints, they were even more confused.<p>

"Uh, Coach," Quinn called to the front of the bus after dropping her last bag.

Sue turned around with a wide smile on her face and surveyed Quinn's body head to toe. "Fabray. Just because the seasons over doesn't mean you can stop wearing the uni. I'm starting to feel like I let you back on the team for nothing."

"Sorry, but I'm not wearing that for six hours on a bus." She quirked an eyebrow and went back to rearranging the bags. They were talked into carrying Santana and Rachel's bags while the two of them went for snacks. It was weird that they were spending more and more time together, but Brittany reasoned that that was their way of making up for the years of problems between them.

But Brittany had left out how Santana said she wanted to talk to Rachel about something. The way she whispered it with Quinn's back turned felt like a secret and she didn't want to break it for any reason, even if Santana hadn't strictly told her not to. She was more focused on psyching herself up for National's mentally anyway since Mr. Schuester decided all of the girls would have a contributing solo in the Troubletones' number. There was something about his insistence that bother her; almost like he was trying to make up for something by letting them all have a chance in the competition. _'Maybe that's his way of saying sorry for being up the boys' asses all the time,'_ she had thought when he first suggested it.

She went to the front of the bus and slid into the front seat diagonal from Sue in the driver's seat.

"Don't you have to have a special license, or something, to drive a bus," Brittany asked. She wasn't ever as intimidated by Sue as Quinn and Santana were except for when she was a freshman. The years gave her a special appreciation for the woman and she may have been harsh on the three of them, but Brittany firmly believed that had always been because they were the best. From the conversation she and Santana had with her the week before, she definitely found her confirmation.

"I'll have you know, Brittany, that I have every possible license one can apply for as a citizen in this country, and several from overseas. There's not a machine in this world I cannot operate. That's my CIA training."

There was also the fact that the woman was completely insane to make Brittany find her endearing. She smiled at Sue through the mirror and rested her temple against the brown seat.

"Why are you coming with us? I thought you hated Mr. Schuester…"

"Hate is a strong word, and although I find it entirely accurate on most occasions, there are the few moments when I can look past it for the good of success. And I want to help you succeed. Because you, and Santana and Quinn, helped me for years with Cheerio's, and the jolly-green giant and ladyface put together that funeral for Jeanie. God knows you can't do it without some real leadership for once."

"That's really nice."

The swish of grocery bags called attention to the steps and Brittany heard Santana yell, "Oh, no no no no no, is this a friggin' joke? Or did you take the wrong pills this morning?"

"That's very funny, sandbags. Get the hell on the bus before I make you do laps around it."

Santana walked up the steps and stood in front of the walkway. When she saw Brittany she cut her a smile and then turned back with an aggravated glare.

"You can't do that. This is glee club."

"A glee club I am assistant coach to," Sue retorted, turning in the seat.

"No one informed me of this," Rachel yelled from a few steps down and Brittany laughed.

Mr. Schuster got done doing whatever with the bags at the back of the bus and walked up the aisle with a smirk on his face. "Nothing's changed, Rachel. We're just getting a little extra coaching."

Rachel pushed past Santana and stormed through the middle of the bus to find Quinn at the back. "Someone could have told me."

Brittany heard Sam whisper, "None of us knew, dude."

"You know what," Santana said, lifting her hand up, "whatever. Nothing could get in the way of this competition. We're winning, whether or not we have your crazy training behind us."

Sue nodded and Brittany stood up to walk back with Santana to where the rest of the kids were sitting. Mr. Schuester said something like, "That's the spirit," but none of them were listening and he went on to gather the rest of the glee club from the parking lot.

Brittany maneuvered Santana into the bench behind Quinn and Rachel and across from a seat with bags in it with the intent to be almost secluded for the entire ride. She didn't have the opportunity to get a lot of snuggling in with Santana the day before, so a full six hour bus trip meant there wasn't anything to distract them. Unless someone started a raucous rendition of _The Wheels on the Bus_ which she couldn't exactly believe she'd be opposed to joining, but hoped they would just be relaxing the whole time. Quinn and Rachel wouldn't bother them because they were interested in doing pretty much the same if what Quinn said on their way to load the luggage into the bus was true.

The bus started underneath them and Brittany fretted with her backpack at their feet. Santana watched her with a curious stare and absent-mindedly played with a slip of paper in her jacket pocket. She focused for half a second to tear it into two slips and then continued watching Brittany while she tore those slips into many, tiny strips on her lap.

"So you got gummy bears, cookies, and Gatorade," Brittany said with her face still between her legs at the top of the backpack. She pushed a grocery bag full of food onto Santana's lap without looking and disturbing all of the tiny papers. Santana struggled to grab them all and balance her new job as table to Brittany's bag of goodies.

She popped back up from the backpack with two Gatorades, one dark purple and the other orange, and waggled them from side to side.

"Orange or _fierce_ grape," she taunted humorously. Her teeth caught on her lip as she said '_fierce'_ and Santana laughed.

"I'll leave fierce for Pierce," Santana joked, taking the orange drink from her hand. She dropped it on the seat next to her and handed Brittany the bag of food all in one motion.

Brittany untied the grocery bag and sifted around the contents. Without looking up, she addressed Santana in a voice reminiscent of a child trading Halloween candy.

"How about…cookies first? No! Gummy bears!" She looked up with a torn gaze. "Or should we wait. It's a long ride."

Mr. Schuester was making head count from the front of the bus and Sue had already started to pull out of the parking lot while he was still standing, forcing him to jet to the nearest seat and hold on. There was an echo of laughter from one bunch of seats to the next all in front of them as Santana smiled at Brittany, caught up in their own humorous deliberation.

"How about some cuddling before we start feasting," Santana suggested, adjusting next to the window for a comfortable position and putting her arm up for Brittany to tuck herself into.

She grinned and leaned in. Her arm snuck across Santana's waist and held onto the opposite him from the one hers was resting against, their uncovered legs sliding together with the movement of the bus. The raised arm fell around her and pulled her closer. Brittany inhaled her favorite scent of Santana and rested her head against the fuzzy wool of her letterman. She could feel every breath pushing against her cheek, warming by the second against the chilly air that drifted through open windows in front of them.

"Are you okay," Santana asked, shifting against her.

A hot cheek pressed against her hair and she nodded. "Wonderful."

"Tired?"

"Not a bit."

Conversations died down all throughout the bus and Brittany imagined her friends sleeping. Quinn and Rachel were still chatting about some of the classes they were going to take the first semester of school, but their voices were so close and intimate they mimicked the quiet Brittany heard all around.

Santana squirmed against her and said, "Wanna play a game?"

"Sure."

"We could…oh! Remember how we used to write dumb little stories?"

"I didn't think they were dumb," Brittany protested. The little elf that tore down the middle school with a shower of lava wasn't a dumb story, even if Santana had taken it in a gruesome turn for an eleven year old.

"If you say so," Santana teased.

"We could do that. Who goes first?"

"You go."

"Can I use 'Once upon a time'?"

"Whatever you want, Britt."

Brittany thought hard about it. She was always terrible at starting the stories and she knew Santana knew that. Every game was a challenge and she lost points when Santana had to take over and create the world. Each turn after she could make up something cool, but she couldn't ever think of a good beginning. Every once in a while Quinn stepped in and gave her an idea, but Santana quickly caught onto her leaving for twenty minutes to make a phone call at the beginning of every new game.

"Once upon a time," she paused to follow the bare inkling of a story she had, "there was a sexy intern named Logan. He had dark brown hair and was white, stocky kind of, and had glasses. His boss, umm…"

"Fiona," Santana added, taking over. "She was a total hottie. I mean _hot. _Dark green eyes, black hair, and huge tits." Her eyes turned up and Brittany could see her picturing the fictional woman. "Lots of cleavage; it sent Logan drooling from his desk all the way to the copier."

Brittany shook her head against Santana's shoulder, which she had moved to after the beginning of the game, and thought of how she could go on.

"Logan really liked Fiona."

"He wanted to _fuck_ her."

Brittany pinched her. "He was super nice, Santana."

"And innocent." Santana kissed her head sweetly.

"But Fiona had a different opinion of Logan," Brittany continued. "She thought he was a waste of her time and she took it out on him by purposely teasing him about his crush."

Santana laughed. "Wait. So Fiona doesn't want to get all up on Logan?"

"No."

"Then who cares!"

She huffed and tore away from Santana's body. "You're ruining my story."

"Just because it's a stupid game doesn't mean we can't make it interesting."

"I'm not! It's funny if you let me get to the funny part."

Santana eyed her cheekily. "What, does Logan have a small dick or something?"

From the seat in front of them they heard Quinn's laughter and Rachel's interjection, "This story is largely sexual and not the least bit entertaining."

"Mind your own business _nosy_," Santana yelled at her.

"I can't help it if you two are practically screaming your perverted antics at each other."

"You know what," Brittany said. "I'm done." She grabbed Santana's arm and pulled it around her. "I'm taking a nap. Keep me warm."

"Babe, finish your story," Santana pleaded in a way that Brittany could tell she wanted to laugh.

"No, forget it. I want to sleep."

The highway had just started buzzing past them outside the glass and the noise on the bus had been protruded by Sue's national public radio blaring through the speakers. Trying to hear herself think over the noise exhausted Brittany and she really did just want to sleep. Even if it came off kind of petulant.

"Tell me later," Santana breathed into her hair as she settled into the seat. Her jacket was providing enough warmth through Brittany's uniform and the sun had warmed the bus enough in the cold air.

Recognizing that it was a desperate request to quench Santana's interest, Brittany nodded into her. "Okay." If she could remember it when she woke up later, she would.

Xx

Two hours later they were in Illinois at a rest stop to let people off for food and to go to the bathroom. Santana was walking through the gas station's snack aisle, grabbing beef jerky and peanuts, when Brittany ambushed her.

"Can we get cotton candy," she asked with a wide grin.

Santana laughed and grabbed the plastic, blue bag from her hands. "Is this gonna be what our road-trip will be like? We're gonna gain like five pounds in three days."

Linking their arms, Brittany shrugged and pulled her towards the cash register. Puck was already there checking out with Finn and Mike.

"We can just work it off when we get there," Brittany joked, lifting an eyebrow seductively.

When they got to the counter, Puck turned around with a smug smile on his face. "Save some of your energy for when I get there, ladies."

"What is that supposed to mean," Santana demanded.

"I mean if I'm going to L.A., who knows when I'll show up at your doorstep."

"That's a horrifying image," she growled.

Brittany giggled and took all of their food and dropped it on the counter. "Let's just not tell him where we live."

"That's cold. What if I need a place to stay," he joked.

"Find a cardboard box," Santana said. "There's lots of freeways to live under."

He shook his head, grinning, and slightly checked her shoulder as he followed Finn and Mike out of the store. She hoped he knew she was kidding. There wouldn't ever be a day in her life that she'd turn Puck away from her doorstep and actually was looking forward to the fact that they might be able to stay in touch. He'd only just come up with his L.A. plan a few weeks before and she and Brittany had already discussed finding a way to keep him around. Not as a roommate, but if they could get him to live somewhere in their area, they both decided they would feel a bit safer.

"You didn't tell him about moving near us yet, did you," Brittany asked with a hopeful lilt to her words.

Santana paid for the food and took the bag from the grocer, linking her arm with Brittany and pulling her along out of the store.

"We have plenty of time for that," she answered. "Let's just focus one thing at a time."

Just as they were getting on the bus—which was already filled by all of their friends—Brittany shouted, "Like National's in Chicago!" There was a loud uproar of cheers, clapping, and whistling that excited Santana for their trip. She couldn't wait to kick show choir ass all across the National's stage. Especially when they didn't have something like a love-triangle, hope-crushing stage-kiss looming in the grand scheme of the weekend. Unless Artie was harboring latent feelings for Finn or Puck that he felt compelled to express mid-performance.

Santana eyed him as she took her seat and decided it was a long shot.

* * *

><p>The Congress Plaza Hotel was right in the middle of high Chicago traffic. While Sue was fighting with a valet about where she could park her bus, the glee club and Mr. Schuster crowded into the lobby with their bags and wide eyes. The hotel was playing host to a number of their competitors and the assault of scales and rhythmic a cappella startled the majority of them. Santana used the brief minute to size of some of their poorer competition (a habit she'd picked up from cheering) while Brittany bopped her head along to one of the loudest songs. Rachel grew into a tizzy with Quinn quietly following Santana's lead and simultaneously massaging Rachel's shoulders.<p>

"Wow," Mr. Schuster mumbled in what Brittany suspected was a way that was meant to be unheard but she definitely heard him. In a clearer voice, he said, "How about we check in gang?"

They all followed him blindly, focusing on the rush of activity coming from every part of the larger, gold room. There were instructors arguing with the staff in front of large doors that Brittany suspected led to a practice hall, probably shut off to the rowdy teenagers. The employees were obviously intimidated and had a nervous glint in their eye that meant groups were getting in that room whether or not they were allowed.

Brittany couldn't concentrate on the flurry of kids without getting distracted so she found Santana's side and wrapped an arm through hers. They waited silently for Mr. Schuster to check them in and followed him to the bank of elevators, where he gave out that floor designation to everyone, expecting them to turn up.

Brittany, Santana, Sam, Mercedes, Tina, and Mike went into one elevator by themselves and promptly shut the door to get rid of the lobby's commotion.

"That was crazy," Tina blurted out. She grabbed onto Mike's arm as the rest of them nodded. "I think I miss last year being in a hotel by ourselves."

"I dunno how many of those crazy fucks I can put up with in one weekend," Santana groaned, making everyone laugh. "They're like Rachel and Blaine on steroids."

"Let's just hope none of them are on _our_ floor," Mercedes stated, watching the numbers click across the top of the elevator.

The bell dinged when they hit level 28 and they all gracefully exited the elevator with their internal fingers crossed.

When Brittany got out behind Santana, the only other people she found in the hallway were the rest of the New Directions and she felt instantly relieved. Until about a minute later when she heard Mr. Schuester giving out room assignments.

"Tina and Sugar, you're with Brittany and Quinn."

"What," Santana demanded, pushing Sam and Finn out of the way. "What the hell?"

"Love you too, Santana," Mercedes joked

"What the hell, Schue?"

"Listen, Santana," he said. "I may not have known about the relationships going on between a lot of you last year, but you this year it's all been made perfectly clear that the four of you," he pointed between her, Brittany, Quinn, and Rachel, "are all together and it's my responsibility as a chaperon to separate you."

Under her breath, Quinn muttered, "Responsibility's been _such_ a big concern in the past."

"It's just for three days, guys. I think you can handle it," he argued.

"Mr. Schue, I understand," Rachel began heftily. "But I have to feel almost like you don't…_trust _us to make good decisions."

"Christ," Santana spouted, "Quinn and Berry don't even get it on so what's the big deal?"

Brittany and Sam snickered while the rest of the group dispersed with their room assignments. Santana's outbursts only entertained them for so long, apparently.

"Santana!"

Santana scowled at Quinn. "What, it's true!"

"You don't know that," Rachel said pointedly in a way that had them all looking at each other for a minute awkwardly. Except for Brittany who was grinning and Quinn who had the tiniest trace of smugness in her features.

"Regardless, you're separated. And Sue and I have the room in between so think twice before trying to pull something past us."

'_Except for having sex on an airplane, sneaking away for a date, and stealing uniforms,' _Brittany noted mentally. They hadn't gotten _anything_ past the two of them.

"Let's just go," Santana growled. "So much for a _fun_ weekend."

* * *

><p>It wouldn't have been a girls' night with Quinn if there weren't practice tests and a strict water-only policy, Brittany thought, dozing on her bed amidst papers and textbooks. She wasn't really complaining because it weren't for Quinn she wouldn't have been one test away from graduating with her intended GPA. Santana came around to being a silent supporter—tagged along to her observation of the studying—and Rachel provided a lot of food, but they didn't go to the lengths Quinn did. They weren't tender-voiced and firm with helping her solve a tough problem, their eyes didn't light up when she brought back a B+. She thought Quinn could have made a really good teacher in another life.<p>

Rachel and Santana promised them an hour and a half of study time for Brittany and decided to go back down into the chaos of the show choir preparations to size up the other teams. Rachel even thought she saw the wick of Jesse St. James' hair flowing through the crowd and wanted to say hello. Santana decided she might want to cut his hair _off_ but Rachel and Quinn convinced her that might get them disqualified.

"One more 'til this is all over with," Quinn said. She dropped a reviewed paper on Brittany's notebook.

Brittany saw there was only two marked wrong and grinned up at her friend. "If I haven't said it enough, thanks Q. I love you for this."

"It's nothing."

Quinn grabbed her phone and started texting, Brittany figured to Rachel to let them know they finished, and then hopped up from the bed. She stretched her legs out and did a few of the exercises Brittany recognized from the paper tacked up to Quinn's bulletin board.

Brittany jumped up and joined her, mimicking the moves and making her laugh by dipping out and flailing her arms around. She pirouetted when Quinn raised herself up on her toes and sent her laughing when she stubbed her toe against the wooden nightstand between the beds.

"You're such a dork," Quinn said. She pushed Brittany into the bed behind her and laughed when she made a show of falling comically.

"I'm cool with being a dork," she agreed.

"As long as you know." Quinn sat down on the opposite bed, the golden blankets furled around her legs.

Brittany started bouncing up and down on Tina and Sugar's bed, and asked, "How are you doing by the way?"

Quinn shrugged. "Pretty good I guess for having been in a wheel chair a little less than a month ago. Cheerio's kind of wore me out though."

"Are you worried about tomorrow then?"

She shook her head and then stared back down at her knees, covered in gray sweats. Her lip was trapped all so telling between her teeth. "They won't be looking at me."

"I never get nervous," Brittany stated. She hopped up from lying on the bed and fell against the headboard of Quinn's bed right next to her.

"Lucky you," Quinn said, knocking their shoulders together.

"Santana and Rachel get nervous." Brittany glanced at Quinn. "You can be nervous if you want."

She blew a jet of air through her teeth and side-eyed her. "I don't know why I even try to lie to you."

Brittany laughed and slapped her with an open palm on the thigh. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but Quinn played it that way and they fell into a fit of giggles. "I never told you not to."

"You can," Quinn said. "It might not make a difference. I'm good at lying."

"Not to me, Q."

Quinn grabbed her shoulder and turned them so they were facing each other. Brittany grinned in confusion and watched her friend shake out any trace of humor.

"Rachel and I still haven't had sex."

Quinn could lie. Obviously, if her smirk earlier was any indication. But the longer Brittany looked, the easier she could see the truth brisling with the tension in Quinn's eyes.

"You're serious?"

"Mhm."

"But I don't understand…" Brittany had to stand up. The nervous energy pulsating through Quinn invaded her and she had to get up, walk, pace or something to get rid of it. She couldn't believe it. She had a hard enough time believing they never did it the first four months they were dating. "What does that have to do with tomorrow?"

"Let's just say she proposed a little…_celebration_ for if we win National's."

Brittany laughed. "Go Q!" Then she paused and walked the length of the room again. "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not really bad," Quinn said, her voice fading off. "Maybe a little intimidating," she mumbled.

"It's Rachel, Quinn. You guys love each other."

"What if it sucks, though, Brittany? I don't know the first thing about any of that. My first sexual experience didn't go exactly the way I _wanted_ it to go."

Brittany jumped back on the bed, making sure to keep a distance to keep Quinn comfortable, and smiled at her as kindly as she could.

"Sweetie, I've heard you guys a few times around school. Those aren't exactly _innocent_ moans."

There was a flash of embarrassment in Quinn's eyes as her cheeks pinked. "What's your point?"

"Most of that stuff comes instinctually. You know the basics. And it's gonna be awkward, but from what I've heard it's not all that strange to happen. She'd totally kill me if she knew I told you this but," she glanced at the door to listen for footsteps, "Santana tried to be really aggressive our first time, but she ended up spending too much making sure I was okay for me to…_enjoy myself._"

Quinn sucked her lips into her mouth and nodded with the line of her dimples peeking through.

"But she figured it out. A _couple_ times that night to be honest. You just have to not be worried about it and know that because you love each other, the rest of it will just happen. It's not like you've never imagined doing things to her before, I've stolen enough of your stories to know that."

Quinn launched across the bed and punched her hard in the shoulder. "Brittany!"

She drew away from her and laughed, trying to jump to the other bed. "I wonder if I still have any of those. I bet she'd like them."

"Don't you dare!"

"I know how much she'd _love_ the attention to detail…"

Quinn dived after her and they struggled in the mess of blankets Santana and she had from a couple hours earlier. She fought against the weight on her back and tried to lift her head from where Quinn had it smashed into the mattress when the door creaked open and they heard laughter.

"You let a cripple take you down, babe," Santana asked from the doorway. She couldn't see her yet, but there was an obvious smirk to her words.

"You two are going to hurt yourselves before the competition," Rachel advised. Her voice sounded disinterested as it crossed the room and it was the familiar focus Brittany recognized from previous competitions. "At least with **two **gone we won't have to completely rework the formation. Tina and Sugar will just have to tighten up on the edges…"

In a rush of movement, Quinn let her up and she scurried off the bed towards Santana. When Brittany got to her, she slung her arms around her waist and cried, "What happened to the Santana who used to protect me from crazy people!"

"I don't know," Santana mocked. "What happened to the Brittany and Quinn who were supposed to be studying?"

"Your girlfriend needed to be reminded of the consequences of threatening me," Quinn joked with her eyes determined and blazon. Brittany could see her plea vividly across the room.

"I guess I need to break out some _study materials_," Brittany bluffed, moving towards her backpack as if she contained the entire collection of Quinn's Rachel-focused erotica. Quinn couldn't have moved faster across the room if she tried, which was probable because she still hurt.

"No you don't. I'm _sorry_, we're finished." She smiled at Santana and then walked across the room where Rachel was watching the video of their earlier practice.

Santana turned around in her arms and hook her own around Brittany's neck, smiling from ear to ear. "Hi."

"Hiya."

"The stories or the audio of her moaning _Rachel_ in her sleep?"

Brittany couldn't contain her smile and bit the inside of her cheek. "The stories."

Santana nodded and then pecked her lips. "Good. Save the audio for another time."

* * *

><p>The lights on stage were exactly as hot as Santana remembered. She could feel the sweat starting to burst through the skin on her forehead even before they started moving. <em>Why do the Troubletones have to go first<em>, she thought, hearing the music start up. And with that, the lights flashed and it all started.

It was a blur of motion and sound. She could feel the words floating through her lips, the emphasis on her stirring a heavy bout of sensation of panic in her stomach. When it moved away, she followed her choreography and found Quinn and Brittany up in the risers. And Brittany smiled at her as she sang, and it all went away. The nervousness was gone.

Then she heard Quinn and grinned, following Brittany to the front. She couldn't have ever imagined being that happy. For an instant she went back a year and thought of the stage at Sectional's where she had to leave Brittany with Artie. And as she twirled she remembered their first prom and watching Brittany dance, unfeeling, around the crowd far away from her. Until, present-Brittany grabbed her arm and turned her around to the reality of where her life had ended up.

Everything was moving too fast and she tried to keep it in perspective. She wouldn't ever forgive herself is she forgot that moment. The lights dimmed and as soon as it began, it ended.

Xx

Brittany couldn't help but laugh at the determination on Puck's face as he swung her around. As much as she tried to focus on her singing, she knew it fell beneath everybody else and she could focus on making sure everyone was doing the performance perfectly. She watched Kurt and Blaine at the top of the risers and could have doubled over in laughter at how big they were showing off.

With Santana on her heels she felt more and more relaxed—even if she had subtly planned the choreography with Mike that way—as the four of them made their way towards the front of the stage. She looked around at her friends and sang along with all of the overflowing emotion pouring through her every seam. It was their moment to be on top of the world and each and every one of them was soaking it up. When Finn took their place, she almost wished he would have tripped.

Quinn was moving good and that was a relief. Even if her eyes were on Rachel, she still managed to make it look decent. Brittany couldn't remember if she had ever been _that_ stressed out about sex with Santana besides when she wasn't having it.

She could feel it all coming to a closing and tried to contain her disappointment. It was their last performance all together and she couldn't help but let it feel like the biggest ending yet.

* * *

><p>Santana's lips were on hers before she could even catch the breath she was holding. The mixed signals of <em>'We Won!' <em>and _'She's really good at that with her tongue!'_ clashed in the chaos around them as someone handed Rachel the trophy that almost overtook her height. Clapping, cheering, and laughter clouded them in their own bubble as Santana squeezed her hips and kissed her. Brittany saw the tears in her eyes when she pulled away and she cupped both of her cheeks.

"We won!"

There were arms suddenly around her thighs and she felt her body being hoisted up on somebody's shoulder. Santana was on the other side and she felt the brush of Puck's mohawk on her forearm as he jogged around the stage. Santana was screaming through her laughter at him to put her down, which he did, but he kept Brittany and ran around, faster with just one person on his shoulders. Kurt jumped up in front of them and hugged her, mildly pulling her down and off Puck so he could go and pick up Sam.

"This is so crazy!" he shouted at her.

"Kurt!" She dove into his arms and jumped up and down.

She felt Santana's arms close around her again and dropped him, turning to kiss her amazing, perfect, talented girlfriend again because she knew another moment wouldn't feel that good in a long time.

xx

All of the doors in the hallway were open. Except past the boundaries of where other hotel-goers were staying. The glee club was moving freely from room to room, even though realistically they could have all fit in one, with different music blaring from one to the other. Sugar had paid off all the other patrons to not complain while they celebrated their first National's win in style. Mr. Schuester and Sue ordered thirty pizzas and then promptly left them to party their hearts out, but not before warning the staff from giving them alcohol.

On a bed in one of the boys' rooms, Mike, Brittany, Tina, and Sugar were trying to organize a game of spin the bottle. Santana shut it down faster than they could pick a glass bottle of some sparkling drink they weren't ashamed to have drunk for the purpose of the game in the first place. She leaned down onto the bed and put her weight half on one leg and the other into Brittany's back. Tiny kisses against her wrist told her Brittany didn't mind the disappointment the others were exhibiting.

"Whatever, somebody dance with me," Sugar demanded, hopping up from the bed. Puck intercepted her before anyone else could get up and they started moving around the room. Tina and Mike joined them and it wasn't long before Brittany coerced Santana into getting up too.

Their hips swayed together and they danced around their friends, occasionally switching partners; Santana ended up with Mike and Sugar and took or gave up leading respectively to both of them. Puck grabbed Sugar back and Santana found Brittany, locking their bodies in a way that she hoped no one could separate them again.

The shouts of Blaine and Kurt down the hallway snagged her attention and she led Brittany to the door.

Kurt had his hands cupped around his mouth and he was catcalling while Blaine whistled at Rachel and Quinn as they moved around inside the room across the hall.

"What the hell was that about," Santana asked.

Kurt turned on his heel and skipped over. "Quinn and Rachel are excusing themselves for the night. Rachel found an open room at the end of the hall."

"I wish I had that idea first," Blaine commented with a grin.

"About time," Brittany joked. She reached forward and grabbed Kurt's hand. "Come dance with me."

They ran in the room and Blaine walked to Santana at the door. He stood with her and watched Brittany and Kurt making a show of themselves around the room, jumping from beds to the floor and singing along to the lyrics of the _Rihanna _song in the background.

"I can't believe we actually won," Santana said, watching Brittany's hips move in her jean shorts, only half paying attention to her own conversation.

From the way Blaine was eyeing Kurt, she could tell he didn't mind all that much. "Me neither."

"And I can't believe frickin' Berry is the one getting laid tonight."

Blaine's head snapped in her direction. "She _did_ have the solo."

"I knew I shoulda fought her on that," Santana groaned.

"Yeah right, you two are too good of friends to fight about songs now," he said.

"Am not! She's still an annoying little midget."

"Keep telling yourself that, Santana," Blaine joked, walking away from her.

_Rachel had her hand in the snack machine when Santana had suddenly burst out, "I don't hate you."_

_She couldn't figure out what made her say it at that exact moment. It might have been the fact they were about to get on the road for their last competition or that school was coming to a swift close. After dwelling on it, she rationed that she didn't want Rachel to think that their friendship would end when everything else did. For whatever reason, their trip to get snacks for the bus trip felt like the perfect time._

_Rachel had just stared at her for a long second._

"_Okay…"_

_Santana took the plastic bag of junk food from her as they started walking and tied a knot in it to distract herself._

"_You've been really cool to me, almost as much as you've been a pain in the ass. Even if we moved past it already I want you to know I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you. It's not about you."_

"_I forgive you, Santana," Rachel laughed. "I know you're a softie."_

"_Bullshit! I could say like two words and have you in the bathroom bawling your eyes out in an instant."_

"_But you just said yourself, you don't mean it."_

_Santana rolled her eyes and hated that she had developed an unfortunate soft spot for such an annoying person._

"_Regardless, I just want you to know that I think you are pretty funny occasionally and I'm glad I asked you to help me with singing. You have pretty decent ideas sometimes."_

"_That's incredibly sweet and almost feels a long time coming."_

"_Wanky."_

_Rachel stamped her foot. "You are so immature!"_

_Santana laughed and pushed Rachel further down the hallway that would lead them to the bus. _

"_I'll still cut you if you fuck with Q again though, Berry. Remember that when you think I'm soft."_

_There was a brief pause where Santana thought Rachel was considering the truth behind the statement. She was very wrong._

"_I believe 'fucking' Quinn is my own business," Rachel got out in one fluid statement._

_Santana practically dropped the bag when she heard that and wheeled on the girl who, honestly, was about as tall as her. _

"_Did you just…oh my god, Rachel, I knew there had to be something cool about you." _

_Rachel laughed and tugged on her arm to pull her along. _

"_Maybe we have more in common than we thought," she said as the exited the school._

"_Not a chance."_

Santana watched Brittany from the doorway and snuck a peek down the hallway where she saw Quinn and Rachel enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. She suppressed the urge to run in with cups of cold water or a shook-up bottle of soda and followed the lurid finger Brittany had beckoning her into the room.

With Brittany's arms locked around her waist and a hand dipped in the back of her jeans, Santana thought she could be a little like Rachel and steal one of her ideas. She kneaded the skin and drove Brittany into her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Wanna go check for an empty room?"

Brittany's lip curled back to show her perfect smile.

"Let's just kick Tina and Mercedes out of mine."

Santana kissed her and smirked. "That's an even better idea."

* * *

><p>The world was pretty much crashing down around her. Her classmates were getting up and leaving with high-fives and laughter as she felt a wave of depression slicing through any confidence she let herself have when she walked into school that second day of school back from Chicago. She thought she had everything, finally, but the world had a different idea of what she deserved.<p>

But it wasn't the world's fault. It was her fault.

Brittany walked through the hallway possessed, set on one destination, hoping and praying she would find who she needed in that moment when the shock would wear off and she would understand what everything meant. She was embarrassed, she was disappointed, she was every negative adjective her flustered mind could come up with walking down the crowded hallway.

The choir room door was open and she heard Santana and Quinn teasing Rachel about something. Brittany hated ruining anything for anyone but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She dashed through the threshold of the door and steered herself right into Santana's confused embrace just as the crying started.

She couldn't contain it and she couldn't explain, even if Quinn had descended on her, begging and pleading for an answer.

Instead, she offered up the packet of papers in her hand and buried herself deeper in Santana's shoulder as if she could get deep enough to hide and never resurface. That would ultimately be the best result.

She heard the page rustle and heard Quinn say "shit" under her breath, Rachel's shoes clacked against the floor as she started pacing and all of the air deflated out of Santana's body as, Brittany guessed, Quinn showed her the failed test.


	60. promise me you won't cry

**A/N: I'm sorry if you guys don't care anymore lol at least I didn't take a year...I guess. Sorry this is short. There should only be two more. One and then an epilogue. I'm really really trying to get it done before break is over, but I'm so through with making promises about this. Thanks if you're still reading. This was never supposed to be this long haha**

**Also, how come you guys don't trust me with Brittany's story? I can't be as bad as actual glee...**

* * *

><p>Santana examined the halls of McKinley on her last Thursday of high school. She observed the underclassmen, the Cheerio's she'd helped whip into shape, and the teachers who taught her the best they could. School was always important to her, and she knew that even if Coach Sylvester was the only authority figure that taught her anything worth remembering, it never had been a waste of time. She'd gotten into a great school with a promising future in a field of study that she had never considered before walking the waxy floors on her first day of freshman year.<p>

And the fact that school hadn't ever been as kind to Brittany pissed her off immensely. If she were being honest, Santana knew that Brittany didn't make it easy on herself from the get go, skipping class and ignoring her homework, but in recent months she'd worked her ass off to simply pass the twelfth grade. A feat that she accomplished with hours and hours of studying and putting forth an effort she didn't know she even had. But that Brittany couldn't get into the school of her dreams based on one, stupid test broke Santana to her core. She didn't know what was going to happen after that afternoon where a grief-stricken Brittany crashed into her arms, soaking her uniform with large tears.

Her feet took her past the doors of her homeroom and Puck rushed from the room to her side. She could have ignored him if she tried hard enough but he looked infinitely apologetic enough that she gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

"She's not here today," he asked. His eyes traced her crossed arms and then moved to the expanse of hallway ahead of them.

Santana shook her head. "She didn't let me come over last night and only sent me a text to pick up her cap and gown."

She waved the receipt slip Anna dropped off at her house that morning in the air and Puck snatched it from her.

"What are you doing," she growled, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

He dragged her aside to a row of lockers and looked over the paper instead of at her burning eyes.

"I'll pick it up. Did you get yours?"

She had. Before school ended the day before, after Brittany had fled the choir room and didn't give Santana a chance to follow her, she went with Quinn and Rachel to get their graduation stuff. They were quick to sympathize and she didn't feel like being alone anyway.

He nodded and brought a hand to her shoulder, squeezing the muscle tenderly. "Now get out of this hell hole and go see her."

Santana rolled her eyes and grabbed the paper back. "She doesn't want to see me, moron."

"Fuck, S," he bit back, swiping the paper again. "Stop being a pussy. She's just embarrassed by yesterday. If you don't go and see her it's like telling her you think she sucks too. Go make her feel better, bring her ice cream or shit. That stuff always works for chicks."

She glared at him, unwilling to budge from the block of tile she centered herself on. He had a point. Not going meant saying to Brittany that there was something to avoid talking about, to avoid dealing with. If she stayed away, like all of her impulses compelled her to do, she was relaying her disappointment.

Puck turned her around and shoved her forward without another word. She knew he had their best interest at heart and she was grateful that throughout their lives the two of them had earned friends that cared so much about t them. So instead of punching Puck in the face for interfering—another impulse from her core that she ignored—she let him push her down the hallway and her feet kept her going.

Santana glanced over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips when she got a few feet forward. She didn't feel like herself if she couldn't have some sort of last word.

"If she slams the door in my face, I'll slam the door on your balls."

"Great," he said smirking. "Looking forward to it."

She immediately went to her locker and grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulders and darting towards the side hallway that took her out to the football field and parking lot. Out of instinct from previous ditching experience, Santana checked the crowded fields for teachers. A few rogue gym classes were going on but none headed by Coach Sylvester and she took that as a good sign to go.

On the way to the parking lot she had to pass underneath the bleachers. In the dusty shade sat a few worn out couches that had been there since the beginning of the school year when she had the experience of catching an again-blonde Quinn plotting how to kidnap her baby. For an instance she noted that she could write a novel about all the fucked up things that happened between her and her friends in high school.

Snapping out of that thought, she saw tangled bodies moving against the cushion of the dirtiest, green sofa only ten feet away. Santana paused, knowing instantly who it was and contemplated the best way to embarrass the two of them.

Thoroughly enjoying their own activities, Santana got close enough to sit down on the arm chair near Quinn and Rachel's feet and crossed her arms.

"You know," she pronounced in an authoritative voice making Rachel roll of Quinn and fall to the ground, "even Brittany and I had standards against using these scummy couches. I'm shocked to find the two of you here." Santana grinned at the two of them, faces red and panting.

Rachel was already on her feet brushing her skirt off when Quinn snapped up and ran fingers through the tangled hair where Rachel's hand had just been messing it up.

"Shocked," Santana reiterated mockingly.

"Who knew you were such a voyeur," Quinn snapped. She pushed herself further upright on the couch.

"Who knew you—" Santana started but Rachel cut her off.

"Santana! I was just thinking about you!" she proclaimed.

Santana and Quinn exchanged confused expressions and Rachel rolled her eyes at them, frustrated. She walked around the couch and reached down into what Santana guessed was her book bag.

"Not right this minute I was thinking about you, Santana. I was _very much_ enjoying Quinn for the last couple—"

"Rachel!"

The girl popped back up from behind the couch with a pack of papers in hand and rounded the couch, giving them to Santana. She made out the word "syllabus" before Rachel was turning the pages in her hand, searching for something in particular.

"What, is this like an itinerary for the summer or something?" Santana scowled as she thought about that. "You're not going to force me to hang out with you or anything are you?"

Quinn punched her in the thigh and she almost dropped the papers.

"Fuck!"

"Knock it off," Quinn demanded.

Santana started to mumble angrily under her breath when Rachel shouted, "Aha!"

"What?"

"Read this." She pointed to the page with a tiny finger and Santana picked up the sentence where it landed.

"'...not a suitable or expected grade, the student may ask for a retest. Under school policy, if the student has shown adequate work, I will allow one exception.' So what? Did you not do very well on an exam or something?"

"It's Ms. Hagburg's syllabus she uses in every class. I found it on the school website last night and tried to see if there were any loopholes that could let Brittany take another chance at the test. I thought she might have already used it but Quinn said to her knowledge, she hadn't."

Santana couldn't believe it.

"She hasn't," Quinn said definitively. "She hasn't had to and I doubt she tried beforehand."

"So it's a chance," Rachel said, speaking to her in a way that said she knew Santana was far away processing the information. "Right?"

"Did you tell her," Santana mumbled. They both shook their heads. "Why not?"

"She wouldn't answer my calls," Rachel explained. "And when Quinn found out I _was_ calling she begged me to let it alone."

"You shouldn't have left it alone, Berry," Santana said. She could feel tears brimming in her lashes and pulled Rachel into a hug. Her chin barely hit Rachel's shoulder and for once she realized that she couldn't be any more than an inch taller. "I knew being an obsessive little midget was gonna pay off for you one day."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult because you're hugging me," Rachel protested, leaving her arms at her sides. "But thanks…I guess."

Santana let go and stepped back, tugging on her backpack with one hand. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Why don't you tell her," Rachel asked, smiling.

"Quinn you have to help her study," Santana demanded. But not before she had enough time to prep Brittany and pull her out of the bed she would surely be in. "Give me an hour and then call me."

Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand and nodded for the both of them. "Of course. Just go."

Santana smiled at the two of them and took off. Before she got too far, she was sure she heard Rachel yelling at her.

"And make sure you tell her I hold any and all responsibility for finding this information!"

* * *

><p>Brittany rolled into the pillow she'd propped up against the wall and buried her face. Her tears ducts gave up trying to produce fresh tears early in the morning but just feeling the damp pillowcase was enough to dispel her exhaustion. She hated how she couldn't fall asleep. That's all she wanted out of the day.<p>

Through her locked door, Brittany heard the commotion of the front door opening and shutting. With everyone in the house gone, she jumped out of bed and grabbed a hairbrush from her desk in the hopes that she could disarm an intruder. Since her door was locked, that's the first room they would try to get into. She paid attention during lockdown drills at school.

Quicker than Brittany thought, the intruder hit the top of the steps and trampled towards her bedroom. It was like they knew she was the only one home. Her heart started pounding in the base of her throat and she braced herself against the adrenaline pumping through her spine. She admired her attire, the green sweatpants she'd gotten into the moment she got home the day before, her blank tanktop hanging off one shoulder. There wasn't anything to protect her and she ran to the bed, dropping the brush on top of the comforter and pulling a hoodie over her torso.

Just as she picked the brush back up, the wood resonated with a knock and her heart jumped.

Slowly, Brittany walked to the door on her tip-toes and held the brush back in an armed position. The wracking of knuckles against the wood again confused her even more than the first and she patiently waited for the other person to strike.

A loud thunderous boom echoed, "Brittany!"

She was light on her feet.

"Brittany…" a different voice whispered from above her.

She felt the door pulsate and jumped back, the cushion of her bed catching her as she woke up from the nightmare. Fingers pressing gently against her cheek and on the edge of the bed, sat Santana, smiling at her.

"Bad dream?"

Brittany darted forward and caught Santana around the waist, pressing into her chest and clinging desperately. Her whole night was filled with nightmares; they ranged from someone burning her diploma, cutting off her legs, and the freshest one, someone breaking into her house and kidnapping her. She couldn't have explained if she tried how thankful she was that Santana broke her out of that one; it was the scariest of them all.

"You don't even know," she replied. Santana's hands were running on her back through her Cheerio's tanktop and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Was it about…you know…yesterday," Santana asked. She ran her fingers through Brittany's hair.

"No. I think it's 'cause I'm miserable." She fell back onto her pillows and ignored the frown it brought to Santana's face. She was allowed to be upset since everything that she'd worked for blew up in her face.

"Well I don't want to kill your mood or anything, but I have good news," Santana joked.

"Is it a time machine so I can go back and tell past Brittany to give up before she tries," Brittany shot back, a little irritated by Santana's sarcasm.

"When I tell you what it is you won't be so rude about it."

"That's doubtful."

Santana rolled her eyes and turned back to the book bag she had apparently dropped to the floor before waking her up. Papers rustled against the canvas until with a grunt Santana tore the papers free. Brittany couldn't see what was on them, but at the same time felt like she didn't ever want to see another packet of papers again. If she decided to forego college of any kind she hoped it was a possibility.

Before she could debate the pros and cons of working at Burger King, Santana deposited the papers into her hands and sat back. Brittany looked down at them and realized it was syllabus for Ms. Hagburg's class and immediately felt worse that Santana would even think she could find anything good or funny about looking at it.

"Santana…"

"Turn the page, Britt."

Without glancing upwards, Brittany turned the page and found a pink-highlighted passage of words surrounded with stars in thick, yellow ink. She read along the underlines and felt a rising in the pit of her stomach that felt a lot like hope. Her mind raced trying to remember if Quinn ever advised a retest in the months they'd been working but couldn't com e up with anything and she let out a little breath of anxiety. She had a chance.

Santana scooted closer on the bed and let their legs brush together through the blanket, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you up for another test?"

"I can't believe we didn't know about this. Quinn is so stupid."

Santana let out a breathy laugh. "Tell me about it. If it weren't for her better half we wouldn't know."

Brittany looked up at her through misty eyes and smiled. "I could tell."

"How?"

She pointed to the page. "You hate yellow."

"True." Santana leaned into her. "So…what do you think?"

Brittany broke the last few inches of space between them and rested her forehead against Santana's with the gentlest pressure she could manage.

"I think," she said, pausing. "That I would feel dumber not taking another test than doing the opposite. But I would have to do it tomorrow. And I need to study."

"Well it's lucky Quinn will be over in an hour than isn't it?"

Brittany let her whole body heave a sigh into Santana as she tucked herself neatly in her lap, wrapping both arms around her waist and hanging onto her like the life raft that she often seemed to be.

* * *

><p>The atmosphere of the McKinley gymnasium practically hummed with the fresh anxiety and excitement of the practice commencement rehearsal. There were kids running around with their friends desperate to find the seats they would be sitting in and how far away from their friends they would have to shout and gesture to communicate during the actual ceremony. Amongst those were the ones who couldn't imagine being up at seven o' clock on a day they didn't have actual class meandering between chairs and blindly knocking them out of place—Puck and Finn were among that few, deciding to drop somewhere on the floor without bothering to find their seats after a meager five minutes of searching. Then there was Rachel, who had Quinn in a foot radius, arguing with a teacher about the insignificance of assigned seating and her objection to the idea that she couldn't gather with her friends on the day of <em>her<em> graduation. And even further among them, stoic and contemplative, was Santana, whose focus only consisted of the one seat nine spaces to the left of hers that was left unoccupied.

It made her feel useless to be less than two hundred feet away from Brittany and not being able to help her through the final attempt at trying to build their future in the way that they both wanted. She helped by passing on the message Rachel gave her, she helped give neck rubs and snacks during Quinn's crash-course study night, but she never felt like what she did made a difference. Passing a test was the one thing that she couldn't help Brittany do in any capacity and it made her feel completely worthless in a way that she hadn't felt before.

All she could realistically do was put her faith into her girlfriend and she did so unhindered, hoping that would get her through the hours that led up until she saw her again.

Quinn appeared out of nowhere and dropped heavily into the empty fold-out chair next to her. She glanced over and gave Santana a reassuring smile that held all the empathy she could imagine before offering, "You could try praying. That might make you feel better."

"Even I'm not stupid enough to think that someone up there cares about one test for one person in the entire world," she retorted, seeing the anticipatory grimace Quinn already spouted. "No offense."

"I don't take any. I just thought maybe you_ might be_ that stupid." Quinn nudged her shoulder and she couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes.

"I would hit you if I didn't need my arms to hold me back from tearing apart this gym in anticipation."

Quinn heaved a sigh and draped her arm around Santana's shoulder, pulling her slightly to the left.

"It'll be okay. No matter what happens."

"Says the girl that got into Yale on a whim," Santana quipped with no real malice.

"Argued by the girl who had the most popular song in a thousand applicants," Quinn bit back.

Rachel voiced in from behind them, "Overheard by the girl who landed a coveted spot in an exclusive dramatic arts program."

Quinn chuckled while Santana whipped around with a confused smirk. "Did you get in, Rachel?"

Rachel nodded sharply with a restrained smile. "Found out yesterday. Why do you think I was all over Quinn in the middle of a school day?"

"Thanks a lot, Rachel."

"Shush, sweetheart. I'm just stating the catalyst for our—"

"Congratulations," Santana interrupted with a beaming grin. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you very much, Santana."

When the teachers started to call everyone to their seats and the fake procession began, Santana couldn't help but imagine herself watching Brittany cross the stage wearing a white gown and a dark scowl. Even with a diploma in hand she would be deflated, toiled in the waste of her second effort. It was in Santana's nature to expect the worst and she did just that with her own steps across the stage.

A half hour later Santana was out the door of the gym rushing to her car with the desperate attempt at keeping it together. Brittany said she'd text and let her know what was happening afterwards but when she checked there was nothing. That only fueled the fire of anxiety in her stomach and she figured rushing to Brittany's house was the next best bet to searching Ms. Hagburg's classroom, which she'd already done.

A smattering of cars littered the parking lot on their last "technical" day of high school and Santana slowed to a walk as she suffered the image of her girlfriend deftly plopped on the hood of her car with both hands in her lap overtop a piece of paper. From how far away she was, she couldn't make out any distinct facial expressions and let the indecision to rush back into the doors she'd come from steer her in the right direction towards a patiently waiting Brittany. The nearer and nearer she got the thicker the blood pumped through her veins, her whole body slowing her trying to repel what fate could be within ten or fifteen more steps.

Five steps in front of her car, Santana stopped trudging and tried to gauge the look on Brittany's face. She wasn't crying or holding all of the tension in a furrowed brow and that reassured her a little. But she knew it wouldn't matter until she would open her beautiful mouth and say something that she would be completely at ease.

"So in California, is it illegal to have dolphins as pets? Because I mean you could just keep them in the ocean right?"

Santana's throat constricted as she interpreted the coy question as an extinguisher of her fears. Brittany passed. She passed. It ran through her mind like a blinding marquee and she rushed forward, crawling onto her car and grabbing her around the middle, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. Brittany giggled and kissed the side of her head, mumbling "I did it" in one relieving sigh.

"I love you so much," Santana babbled through unwanted tears that forced their way out and onto Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany squeezed her hard and kissed her head again. "I know. I love you too."

* * *

><p>That night Breadstix was packed to the walls with kids out with their parents celebrating the night before graduation. Occasionally Breadstix's popularity bothered Brittany to the point that she would rather hang out at the McDonald's down the street with all the middle school kids, but her and Santana's parents never wanted to settle for simple fast food and in Lima there wasn't much else to choose from.<p>

They arrived with Anna and Tony since they ended up curled in Brittany's bed after school for a couple hours to relieve the stress both of them had felt through the duration of her test. She was really proud of herself for passing the retest with an eighty and the unwavering smile on Ms. Hagburg's face as she scribbled the score and circled it with a bright green marker meant that she'd even impressed her teacher. Santana, as always, didn't care much for the actual score with the knowledge that she had raised her grade, and proceeded to burst into her third round of tears at the sight of the test. Her mom even had a fresh batch of cookies waiting for them when they got home and she figured Santana must have sent her a text before they got home—the engulfing hug from her father tipped her off just a bit too.

Anna suggested Breadstix with the Lopez's and that's how she ended up being pushed into a chair against the wall by Santana who she guessed wanted to sit on the end where her mom and dad would be. Victor and Maria were coming from work, or so she'd been told, and they texted Santana to go ahead and order without them in case they got held up for any reason. The disappointed scowl on Santana's face when she read that text out loud in the car made Brittany a little wary of the dependency she had learned to place in Santana's parents since their relationship had apparently strengthened. She didn't want to have to watch Santana frown into a plate of spaghetti for the entire night because they didn't show up.

"So graduation," Tony said, his smile gleaming across the length of the table.

"Yep, graduation," Santana retorted, giving Brittany a placating smile.

"That means a huge 'rager' soon, right? That's a little more exciting than a piece of paper," he joked. Anna gave him a sidelong glare.

"Unless the piece of paper is an invitation," Brittany amended.

Santana laughed and took a sip of her water, shaking her head the whole time.

Tony turned to his wife and gave her a pitiful stare. "She doesn't even have her diploma and she's already smarter than me. What are we going to do at Christmas? She'll be a genius."

A hand slipped into hers under the table and Brittany gazed over at Santana.

"She _is_ a genius."

A high pitched voice joined the table and Brittany glanced over to see her sister tugging a chair next to Tony and Anna while Maria picked the chair next to Santana.

"Yuck, are they always gross at dinner," Chrissy asked.

"Only when Santana gets something stuck in her teeth," Tony taunted, earning himself another glare.

"Sorry, I had to some trouble getting this monster from her gymnastics class" Maria said as she ran her hand through Chrissy's hair. "She looks so much like Brittany when she was that age, it's crazy."

"Ew," Chrissy pushed her hand away. "Don't say that."

"What's wrong with how I look," Brittany asked, seriously concerned. Maybe Santana needed her eyes checked.

"Absolutely nothing," Santana bit back. "At least you don't look like a cabbage patch kid."

"I do not!"

"Seriously, you would think the two of them are sisters," Anna complained, placing a hand over Chrissy's mouth. "Shh, you don't look like cabbage patch doll—not entirely."

"Mom!"

Brittany laughed watching her mom try to restrain Chrissy from bursting out of her seat in agitation and barely caught the image of a silent conversation going on between Santana and Maria. She didn't have to guess that it had to do with Victor's absence at the table but that didn't mean she wanted to get involved. Parents were still a touchy subject for Santana even after how supportive they had been with the two of them being outed; nothing made up for their nonexistence in a large chunk of her memory, or that's at least how she had explained it to Brittany.

Watching her mom kiss the side of Chrissy's head and remembering the family mall trips and vacations her family had taken together started to make her feel bad. All of Santana's vacations were for business trips with her mom or dad and most of the time they left her to spend time and money by herself how she pleased. The only exposure she had ever had to true, family time came from spending it with her own family, being included on the rare Pierce game night or at dinners that she knew Anna had pushed on Maria. Brittany started to piece together what made Santana the way she was in that moment, recognizing that when there weren't people around to make her feel good and safe—people who weren't home when she got back at three in the morning or showed up to dinner—she would expect that out of everyone.

Brittany didn't want her to feel like that, ever. She wanted to end the silent staring match between the present Lopez's to explain that she wouldn't ever leave Santana waiting at a dinner table or awake at night listening for the front door to open. She wanted Victor to show up and walk down the crowded aisle of Breadstix explaining that he left his wallet at home and that's why he was so late, not because he couldn't break away from a drink after work as she had overheard her mom say to her dad one night on the way home. He'd been so good about showing up, about being there; Brittany didn't want him to revert and take back all of the progress he'd made with his daughter who appreciated every second of his presence. Especially not on the eve of their graduation, which she knew made all the difference to Santana.

But halfway through dinner, and after her dad had proposed a toast to the combined success and prosperous futures she and Santana had forged for themselves, when he still never showed up, Brittany wanted to do more than keep her hand in Santana's lap for comfort. She wanted to kiss her cheek and neck and shoulder to show her that she understood that it meant a lot for him to be there but it was okay that he hadn't.

All she did instead was lean over and whisper into Santana's ear, "Stay with me tonight, okay?"

Santana turned to her and nodded wistfully, with a lingering smile from when Tony had blown bubbles into his soda enough for it to erupt over onto Anna's plate. "Of course."

* * *

><p>Santana always believed body heat worked more wonders than central heating so when Brittany suggested just cuddling, she did her best to take off her clothes in a non-seductive way. When that didn't work, they tried their best to be quiet in the still, sleeping house and worked their way down into spooning. There was something different in the way Brittany held her hand on top of her stomach and how she was almost trying to compress their bodies into one form from behind with a tight grip. Instead of questioning it, she sunk back against Brittany and let the warmth overpower her and lull her into a haze.<p>

One kiss landed against her shoulder after a moment and she relaxed the muscle it grazed instantly, loving the tender contact.

"I love you so much I can't stand it," Brittany mumbled into her skin.

She smirked at the implication and pressed her hips back into Brittany's abdomen.

"Can't stand what?"

"I won't leave you at dinner, S. I won't. Ever."

The statement caught her off guard and instead of responding, or turning into a conversation she still felt a little raw about having, she didn't say anything and tried to push her acceptance out of her own body into Brittany's mind. She knew that Brittany understood how she felt; it wasn't fun complaining about it over and over again.

"You can trust me, Santana. Always."

Santana sighed. "I do, Brittany."

"It's not the same though, right? You wanted him there tonight."

It wasn't a question that she needed to answer.

"He might have had a super hard surgery."

Santana sighed again.

"You don't have to make excuses for him, Britt. I just really wanted to see that he cared about me accomplishing something. If he doesn't show up tomorrow…I…"

"He'll show up. I promise."

"Don't make promises for my family, B."

There was another kiss after a moment's pause and then Brittany had her nose buried into her neck, breathing in.

"I'm your family, right?"

"Mhm."

"I'm going to show you how family is supposed to be, Santana, I swear. And if we ever have kids, they'll know too. I want you to feel loved and special and important. I don't want you to ever feel alone ever again."

It was too much to hear all of her doubts reaffirmed in Brittany's concern. She didn't want that to be a burden she ever felt like she had to bear. That time, she twisted in Brittany's arms, tugging loose and cupping Brittany's face in one swift motion.

"Brittany, I love you. You make me feel all of those things just by walking into the room. You _are_ my family. Okay? I'm not missing anything because you'll always be my best friend and the girl I love. You don't have anything to make up for anyone, okay?"

"I love you."

Santana pulled Brittany's face closer and pressed their noses together. "I know, and that's the best feeling in the world. It makes the rest of the bad ones go away."

"Santana…" Brittany stared into her, hard. "We're going to start a life together soon."

She smiled at the determination in Brittany's words. "Yeah?"

"Are you ready for that?"

Santana laughed and pecked Brittany's cheek and forehead a few times, her fingers tickling bare hips creating a struggle in the small bed.

"Why? Are you backing out on me already?"

After a large lunge away, Brittany huffed. "After all I've been through trying to get into AMDA? Yeah right. I don't even care if you're going anymore," she joked.

"Rude!" Santana shoved her away until she almost fell off the bed and then fought to keep her close after seeing the panic-ridden face she'd incited.

"Abuse," Brittany growled, forcing Santana back. She pounced on top of her and pushed the arms fighting her away enough to drop down and settle on top of Santana comfortably. "I'm really ready, Santana. You don't even know."

"We still have to walk across the stage tomorrow."

"Do we really, though?"

Santana rolled her eyes and wrapped Brittany up, gliding her fingers through the long hair falling across her bare skin. "No, but we should."

"Let's worry about that in the morning."

"Whatever you say, babe."

Brittany reached down and grabbed a blanket from the bottom of the bed, pulling it up and over the both of them. Santana could have cared less with her living, breathing blanket keeping her warm enough to drift off to sleep again.

Xx

From the crowded gymnasium filled with the senior class and parents on bleachers, Brittany tried to force the tears from her eyes. She knew if she missed the moment Santana crossed the stage she would hate herself forever. Principal Figgins stepped back to the microphone and read Santana's name from the list as the girl herself waited patiently at the bottom of the steps. Brittany took her in fully, grinning without abandon, and silently prayed that years of cheerleading sneakers wouldn't take away her ability to function on heels—even if Santana wore heels at every chance she had. Figgins handed Santana the diploma book and she smiled out at the gymnasium, finding Brittany's eyes as she waited in line for her turn. Her turn to prove her accomplishments, her achievement.

She smiled back, watching the flash of a camera go off from one row of the bleachers and turning to see her parents, Maria, Chrissy, and Victor dropping the camera from in front of his face to see his daughter take the final steps across the stage. Brittany found Santana again and nodded her head towards the bleachers.

When she saw Santana take in the image of her father, Brittany's heart could have exploded with joy—and she hadn't even received her diploma yet. Nothing felt better than seeing that joy in her girlfriend's eyes, not even a piece of paper.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks :)<strong>


	61. take me where I need to go

**A/N: This story was not good enough to make you wait as long as I have. All I can offer in explanation is that when the inspiration for something starts to wither and die it's hard to want to continue. But it killed me to leave this story unfinished and I truly love the characters as they were when I started this story too much. And I love all of you guys that continued to read and review as my updates came later and later. So thank you for what has been (so crazy to think about) 3 years of this story. I appreciate everything and I hope you enjoy the end.**

**Disclaimer: I wouldn't want to own Glee if I could. You can keep it RIB.**

* * *

><p>The water bottle Santana and Brittany had been sharing went stale the longer they decided to stay in bed together. Every time one made a move to roll out, the other grabbed them and protested with a kiss or a touch that made the blistering heat that much hotter. Who wanted to go outside the fresh air conditioned room, for the unbearable temperature outside Santana's house?<p>

Their only defense against the hellish degrees had been graduation from the high school that forgot to turn off their heat well into May. School had been over for three weeks and summer jetted before their eyes, June slipping into July. Someone somewhere knew that they only had a few months left with everyone they loved and had turned the dial to fast-forward. Blaine and Kurt had set their departure date, as well as Quinn and Rachel. Brittany knew her and Santana were leaving last, and partially hated the fact that they would have ring-side seats to watching everyone they cared about go first. If she didn't already know there was an apartment getting ready for them in California she would have felt a little left out.

Santana and her dad had left two weeks before to find a suitable place for the two of them that would make commuting easy. After a week of anxious telephone calls, Facetime meetings where Brittany could see the inside of each place, and several long distance breakdowns between them, they settled on a two-bedroom apartment that the landlord promised would still be available when they moved before school started.

Brittany stroked the palm of Santana's hand that sat upturned and considered their last two months of summer and what lasting fun was in store for them. Santana considered the feeling of Brittany's fingertips and how little she desired to be touched by anything in the freak heat of the bedroom except for her lithe movements. She couldn't put her mind past anything but the present for fear of inciting a panic attack.

A sudden thundering parade of feet ran up the stairs and since they weren't at her house, it left Brittany in a state of confusion. Unless the Lopez's had conceived a child in the past forty-eight hours since she'd been holed up in the Santana's room.

The door shot open and Rachel choked on her breath, one hand on her side and cheeks flushed.

"Berry!" Santana shouted her name so loud Brittany had to weave to the side to let it go past her. "What the actual fuck?"

From somewhere downstairs, they all heard her mom shout, "Santana!"

Keeping her voice at the same level, Santana yelled back, "I would be sorry if there wasn't a magical leprechaun bursting in through my door!"

Rachel hadn't even tried to defend herself, still massively out of breath. She was in clothes were certainly not hers, an oversized hoodie and cut-short jeans. Brittany thought she actually looked kind of attractive in that moment until she considered how easily winded she was. Being able to keep up with her was a must.

Another set of feet pounded their way up the stairs and Quinn appeared a moment later, huffing harder than Rachel. But unlike her girlfriend, she didn't try to catch her breath before speaking.

"No way. There is...no way...you beat me here."

"Is there a sign somewhere outside my house that says 'Please interrupt. They're totally in there together?'"

Brittany couldn't help but snicker at how furious Santana was, pulling the hand she had been stroking down back to its position on the bed, stroking her again. The effort seemed to calm Santana down as she relaxed back into her pillow. It was remarkable how easy she could jump back and forth between ferocious tiger and sated kitten.

"Hi!" Rachel finally said, her voice stable and breathing almost entirely regulated. "Can we use your pool?"

"Quinn has a pool," Santana argued, eyelids visibly growing heavy.

"My mom," Quinn paused for another huge breath, "hasn't opened it yet." She put a hand on her back and squeezed the skin for a second, massaging out some of the residual pain. None of the girls missed her grimace and then eye roll at their concern.

"Can't Puck do it," Brittany suggested. The more the conversation went on, the hotter she seemed to feel. She couldn't understand how Rachel could even attempt to wear a hoodie.

"I asked him," Rachel said. "He said not until he got sober enough to not drown in it. Apparently he, Finn, and Sam have been on a bender since school let out." She shrugged. "No judgement."

"Not even for ex-Mr. Rachel Berry?"

Santana snickered at her own joke and endured the glare she got from Quinn.

"He could start dating Noah and I wouldn't have any judgement. Been there, done that."

"Funny, so has Quinn," Santana taunted.

Quinn jutted forward into the room.

"Is there a reason you're being such a pain in the ass?"

Again, downstairs Maria chastised them, "Quinn!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Lopez!"

Rachel put a hand on Quinn's back and then used all of her acting ability to smile at Santana. "May we please use your pool?"

Santana scratched a hand through her hair and groaned. "Sure. If that gets you out of my bedroom, I'd do just about anything."

Rachel screeched in joy and ran past Quinn, patting her on the butt. Quinn looked positively humiliated and her cheeks deepened in a red that was new to the flush of her exhaustion.

She attempted a smile. "Thanks, guys. Sorry to bother you."

"Embarrassed by your girlfriend, Q? If you need to train her I think we have dog biscuits in the downstairs closet."

"I heard that!"

Quinn smirked out of the bedroom and clicked her tongue.

"I once saw you pretend to give a breadstick a blow job in a crowded restaurant, so I think you should recognize your own indecency before making another comment like that."

Without another word, Quinn shut the door and Santana wasted no time in forcing herself out of Brittany's grasp enough to hop up and lock it to prevent further intrusions on their days-long excursion from the human race, or really just from Quinn and Rachel who thought every other day was a perfect moment to plan another double date. She would have felt bad for Quinn if she didn't know how much the two of them actually loved each other and how perfect their stoic, solid and bubbly, optimistic personalities complimented each other. The thought of having to spend time with them, however, was exhausting in itself. If she wanted to be exhausted, Brittany had other ways to help her out with that. The more she thought about those perfect things her girl could do, on her brief walk back to the bed, the more she thought it might be nice to get the few clothes she had on off.

Not that it would ultimately help with the heat.

She grabbed the hem of her tanktop and pulled it off with one hand, revealing her breasts to the cool breeze streaming out of the ceiling and sighed at the wonderful feeling.

"I thought you were too hot for this an hour ago," Brittany interjected, a warm hand already on her abdomen.

"Not hot enough, Britts. Not yet."

* * *

><p>Target seemed the most logical place for the four girls to begin their shopping for household items. It afforded them the opportunity to hang out together and find the best housewares for what any of them could understand were decent prices. Unfortunately, the trip took a turn as the couples split up into teams, separating them from each other for sake of time. The bad part was that they weren't split up in order to find items faster, but because it was taking some of them longer than the others.<p>

"You just don't understand that my only goal in life is to have a four slot toaster."

Brittany had been arguing for ten minutes in the middle of an aisle with her about toasters. Santana hadn't ever felt more domestic in her life and it actually scared her a little.

"I thought your goal in life was to be a professional dancer. Or to be with me. Or to eat the most cotton candy ever consumed in one sitting."

The crossed arms on Brittany's chest squeezed tighter and she kind of regretted making a joke of something that might have actually been one of her girlfriend's life dreams. But, she had been in one aisle of the store for ten minutes when they needed to be moving faster. Quinn and Rachel were already in bedding while they were still stuck in appliances trying to decide if they'd ever actually use a George Forman grill. She would barely admit to herself that she considered life-planning a competition, but with Quinn as her opponent, most of everything was a competition.

"When do you need that much toast, Britt? It's going to be just the two of us." She really was trying to be rational about the little money that she had taken out of her mom's moving allowance.

Brittany's cheek concaved and she could see her teeth pulling at the skin trying to think of an answer. The least she could do was listening to any argument that would hasten their decision.

"What if on the first day of school you want eggs and toast and my stomach is doing that weird thing where it can't process eggs and I need to eat a pop-tart. And because of our schedules overlapping there isn't time for the both of us to wait patiently and my pop-tarts are taking up both slots of the toaster. What are you going to do then?"

_Shit_, Santana thought. She wasn't expecting such a fully formed point, or one that she actually agreed with at least.

"Eat a banana?"

"Santana! I'm being serious."

She couldn't help but laugh at the pout on Brittany's face and grabbed the box from the shelf, dropping it on top of their package of assorted silverware. "Alright," she relented. "You win this one, Pierce."

Happily, Brittany skipped over to her and threaded their arms together. "Good work, Lopez."

They met up with Quinn and Rachel in the towel section, where the two of them were arguing about whether or not towels had a thread count, much to Santana's delight. She drug Brittany past them and made a show of pointing to one set of colorful towels that she figured would agree with them both. When Brittany immediately picked it up and dropped it into the cart, she caught a glimpse of a smirk on her face and realized they both had the same thought of rubbing it into Quinn's face. She knew it worked when they heard a loud thud that was Quinn's foot crashing against the side of their cart.

"Excuse us," Santana declared loudly, brushing past them on the way to bedding, purposely knocking her knee into the back of Quinn's leg. Brittany burst out into laughter when they were far enough away and she kissed her on the cheek.

The shelves of sheets and comforters were overflowing with signage that indicated they were for college use. But what frustrated the two of them was that there didn't seem to be any sheet sets that were made for a queen mattress in that section. It made sense that dorm rooms weren't filled with anything other than a single, but it was dumb that they had to miss out on all the fun patterns and sets that came only in the college-prepared deals. Santana could tell how irritated Brittany was that the pink sheets with zig-zag designs of green and yellow were only a certain size that wouldn't fit what they needed and felt terrible that she had to move them back to the normal rows of sheets. They were stuck with plain colors and that seemed to make the decision that much more difficult. The only plus side she could see was that they were getting two for the price of one, but that didn't mean much to Brittany, whose heart was still on the purple leopard-print sheets she'd had her fingers on when they walked away.

"We don't have to get them here if you don't like any of these," Santana told her, trying to get another smile out of her. She didn't want such a mild problem to ruin their whole experience of shopping for their first apartment which had been for a while actually fun.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we could totally wait and order some cute ones off the internet. I'll even pay for them out of my own money. It'll be like a housewarming present for you."

"Is it a gift if you'll be using them too?" Brittany teased her with a flirty eyebrow and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Trust me. I won't be focused much on the sheets when we're in bed together." She got close enough for Brittany to hear the emphasis as she added, "Every. Night."

Brittany grabbed her hips and tugged her forward. She could feel her fingers trying to work up the teal hoodie she was wearing and shivered when the cool digits touched her skin. She didn't know shopping could be that big of a turn on, but her mind was off in the life that they were going to be living. And she didn't mind admitting that she hoped it might be a clothing-optional kind of life.

Brittany didn't kiss her. Instead she brushed their noses together and turned instantly away, pushing the loaded cart out of the aisle way. She read the move as easy as a flashing marquee: they needed to finish shopping as quickly as possible. Beating Quinn and Rachel was only a bonus.

* * *

><p>It seemed that Puck had given up drinking long enough one day to invite all of the graduated seniors to his house for one last party in their honor. The entire senior class—as well as most of the underclassmen who had heard from their friends—filled the front and back yards, the pool, and almost every room in the house. How he managed to get his mother out of the house for that big of a party was completely out of Brittany and Santana's understanding but they were grateful to see all of their friends in one place for what they assumed would be the last big blow-out of the summer.<p>

Puck's sobriety lasted until an hour after they showed up, taking his partying mainly to the pool filled with the girls who never got their chance with him during high school. Santana watched him in disgust from a glee club-crowded picnic table in the corner of the yard as he put his tongue down the throat of the soccer teams' complete roster. If someone had asked her if they had a soccer team before that moment when Tina filled her in on where the girls came from, she wouldn't have had a clue to the answer. It was one of the only sports Coach hadn't made them cheer for.

"And imagine you could still be on his arm, pretending to enjoy make-out sessions in the bed of his pickup during school," Quinn teased. She took a solo cup filled up an inch with tequila and tossed it back, her lingering smirk trying to incite something in Santana.

Santana drank hers and then answered, "You were pregnant."

"And?"

She laughed. "Nothing. It's just funny to remember."

Quinn rolled her eyes and poured a round for them and the rest of the kids at the table: Sam, Artie, Tina, and Mercedes.

When Santana thought about it, though, Quinn made a very good point. The series of events that led to Santana and Brittany finally admitting their real feelings were long and complicating. So much so that it was a miracle they were even still together. If just one word had been out of place, she could have been dragged down forever hiding with Puck, unable to admit that she was gay let alone admitting that she loved Brittany.

She had imagined what life that would have been on many occasions. One full of alcoholism and arguments about who would pick their kids up from his mom's house. She pictured her fat ass at a dead end clerk job that would keep her in a world she didn't like. For a moment, she hoped that this alternate universe Santana would at least sneak in some lady lovin' every once in a while—it only made sense. Maybe it would even be Brittany. At a reunion.

And finally she realized that even her imagination couldn't keep them apart. She hoped Brittany would understand about the big ass; a lifetime of fast food wouldn't do her body any good at all. Brittany's perfect body would have to do. Her perfect, supple, sultry…

"You're drooling in your tequila," Tina observed, nudging her shoulder.

"Huh," she said, startled. "Shit." She brushed her arm over her chin and the table erupted in laughter.

"A little bit drunker than you thought," someone said and she shrugged.

"I guess."

With that she stood up from the table and brushed the butt of her shorts off. She saw Sam's eyes linger and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Watch it, Trouty."

He laughed and she smiled, grabbing her drink and looking around the party to spot Brittany. They arrived together but didn't spend too much time with each other. On the ride over they agreed that the night would be a good last opportunity to say goodbye to the majority of their friends. Only the majority because she had seen Kurt and Blaine off two days before at the bus station and they still were a week away from Quinn's last day in Lima. Rachel was supposed to leave the next day and she had already said goodbye with large mementos—coffee mugs, notebooks, coasters—to remind them of her while they were across the country.

They all agreed that the mileage between them couldn't change the way they all felt about each other and would stay in contact. Rachel was the least hopeful and said that with all the practical gifts that they would have think about her daily which actually made Santana tear up. And the immediately suppress her emotions.

Fuck, she loved Rachel. Not in a lame way, though. In the way that the girl had been there for her through a lot of tough moments and never faltered in understanding or kindness. Tonight they could simply hang out and enjoy being with everyone, no more of the sappy stuff…maybe.

Santana finally spotted Brittany in the pool on Puck's shoulders for what seemed like an impromptu chicken fight against Finn and Michelle, the cheerleader who joined the Troubletones back when they needed members.

Blonde hair soaked to her skin, pale skin that was illuminating the dusk. Santana had an impossible time taking her eyes off the beauty that was her girlfriend.

A scream reverberated in the air and she saw Michelle tumbling back into the water, her foot catching Finn's nose on the way down. Puck was popping Brittany up in the air in celebration while she laughed and cheered at what appeared to be a fast victory.

"Brittany!"

She heard Santana's voice and scrambled down from Puck's shoulders. Her shorts were on the table so Santana grabbed them and brought them with her, meeting Brittany halfway across the yard.

After she helped her climb into the shorts, an almost disaster around the slippery edge of the pool, they returned to the bench and sat down, Brittany on her lap. Santana could feel the wet bikini-bottoms soaking through both pairs of their shorts, and even though it made her feel like she'd peed her pants, she was too buzzed to care.

"So," Quinn started, "who's taking over glee club's leading roles? Tina?"

The girl looked up from her beer with wide, disbelieving eyes and laughed. "That'll be the day."

"Why not," Artie asked. "Who else would?"

Rachel, uncharacteristically late, appeared behind Tina and wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders. Her eyes were a little glassy and she pressed her face against Tina's cheek.

"If anyone should take over for me it's you. While sometimes lacking in enthusiasm and ambition, Tina has every qualification in terms of talent and potential. She is intelligent and adaptable and _beautiful…_"

"I'm right here," Tina interjected as the list continued next to her face.

"Shh," Rachel answered. "I am practicing for when I give my recommendation to Mr. Schuester." She continued to mumble while Sam and Mercedes giggled from the opposite side of the bench.

"Sweetheart," Quinn called, in a very gentle voice, "are you drunk? You just got here."

Rachel's eyes seemed to perk up when they fell on Quinn and she immediately released Tina and rounded the table to plop into her girlfriend's lap. "Quinn."

"Rachel," Quinn answered.

"Puck met me at the door with a tray of shots and I couldn't refuse. It would have been rude as a guest in his house."

"How many is a tray," Santana questioned. She could barely keep herself from bursting out into laughter, but only because she couldn't tell how Quinn was reacting, held it in.

"Five," Rachel held up her hand. "I could '_take as many fingers as I had_.' That's what Puck said."

There was a collective snort of laughter from everyone except Rachel and then Quinn just shook her head. She pushed Rachel from her lap and then settled her on the bench where she had just been sitting.

"I'll be right back," she said, with a tight smile on her face.

Then, the entire table burst out laughing and Santana nearly knocked Brittany off her lap.

"Oh, Puck," Sam said. "He's gonna get his face punched after that one."

"What," Rachel asked eagerly.

Brittany continued to chuckle and answered, "It's not even that funny. Or clever."

"Babe," Santana said. "It's _Puck._"

The kids continued to laugh and it wasn't until Quinn came back that the drinking started all over again and Sam was producing a stack of solo cups, suggesting they get a game of beer pong going. At that point Mercedes was taking Tina to the pool and Artie had his guitar out, playing whatever came to his mind. Brittany decided that she wanted to be on Rachel's team and that sent Santana over to the other end of the table with Sam. Quinn watched on from Rachel and Brittany's side, ever the protector when it came to anyone and alcohol.

Santana geared up for her first shot and hesitated when Quinn started talking.

"Just so you're aware, you're going to lose this one," she informed them. Sam looked at her skeptically and then turned to Santana with a laugh.

"What the hell is she talking about?"

"Fuck if I know, Bieber."

Already down in his perched position, Sam stood up and ran his fingers through his chopped hair. "Dude, not cool. I haven't had that hair in forever."

"That's how I still see you in my head," she teased him with a shrug of her shoulders. "Now shut up, I'm going first."

She held up the first ball and flexed her wrist, sinking the ball in the middle cup. She thrust her arms up in the air and received a high five from Sam, proud of herself especially after Quinn's attempt at psyching them out.

"Brittany, my dear, sweet Brittany. That one is for you."

Santana grinned and then stuck out her tongue.

Brittany rolled her eyes and picked up the cup, swallowing it as Sam lined up his shot. He hit another into one of the side cups and Rachel quickly snagged the drink and chugged it. Quinn had to grab it from her hand and look at her authoritatively before she settled down enough to drink it slower. Santana snickered and caught the tail-end of Quinn's glare.

After drying off the ball with the side of her shorts, Brittany tossed the first miss of the game. It hit the rim of the cup and bounced into the grass near Santana's leg. While she reached down to pick it up, a cheer resonated from the other side of the table and she looked up to see Brittany and Rachel caught in a hug of celebration.

Sam scratched his nose and looked between the ball in the cup of beer and Quinn's snide smirk. He took the ball out, shook it off and then rolled it between his fingers.

"What don't we know," he asked Quinn.

"Santana!" Rachel shouted and pointed sharply at her. "Yours!"

She grimaced and took the cup, taking one large gulp and then setting it aside to drink throughout their next turn.

Quinn laughed. "Rachel used to practice pong in the event that she would ever come to a high school party."

"It's true." Rachel nodded her head emphatically.

"So we're gonna lose, since she was a loser," Santana stated, shaking her head. "I'm questioning the entire high school hierarchy right now." She turned to Sam. "If we lose to her…"

"How good could she be, man? It's Rachel."

It was obvious to Santana that Quinn didn't ignore that remark, nor did the girl in question as she finished off her cup from the first round. Brittany appeared just happy to be involved in a game where she could reasonably continue to get drunk under the guise of friendly competition. With Rachel and Santana though, friendly often was the guise of their competitiveness.

Shots were traded between the two teams and Sam missed less than Brittany but numerously more than Rachel, while Santana kept their team afloat, hitting all but one of their shots. The beer had started to get to them all as well on top of the tequila shots they were doing earlier that night, slowing the game down considerably. So slow, that Quinn had left since she found their drunken stupor less entertaining than Artie reenacting the "_Don't Dream It, Be It" _scene from _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ on an inflatable tube in the pool.

Two cups remained on Santana and Sam's side, while Brittany and Rachel were down to their last cup. Santana tossed her last ball with what she thought was such _finesse_, that it sailed overtop the remaining cup and slapped against Brittany's exposed stomach. She looked down, wiped off the beads of beer and giggled.

"That tickled, S."

"Fuck, dude," Sam complained, "that was it."

"You think I don't know that, Trouty," Santana exclaimed.

The balls were in Brittany and Rachel's hands, the two of them already grinning with confidence. Brittany threw the first shot and it spun around the rim of the blue cup. Santana was quick to try and "finger" the ball out of the cup—they had decided either would be appropriate in that circumstance since neither team would have been able to lean over and blow on the cups without ruining the game or hurting themselves—but missed the opportunity and it fell in. She unwillingly took the drink and started her pity party.

Rachel leapt in joy and then solidified her stance, as if she were participating in the world cup of beer pong. It was hard to judge the girl when she had scored more cups than the rest of them.

"Reset," Brittany asked Rachel, an inquisitive look on her face.

Rachel closed one of her eyes and answered, "Nope." With one fine flick of her wrist, the ball sailed into the air and landed right in the center of the final cup.

Letting out a giant sigh, Sam took his final cup as the other side of the table celebrated in a frenzy of high fives and whooping noises. Santana poured out the rest of her cup while they were distracted and then crossed the grass to congratulate them. Rachel accepted a pat on her back and then ran off to share the good news with Quinn. Sam had practically disappeared immediately upon their loss, although he took the final beer with him.

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's waist and kissed the side of her neck.

"Where did Sam go?" she asked.

Santana looked around and could only guess.

"We must have insulted his male pride."

"That's not nice."

"I never said I was nice," Santana retorted. Her face twisted into a grin as she kissed Brittany. "You know that, babe."

Brittany's eyes lit up as she stared beyond Santana to the back of the house. They moved from the windows up to the roof, as far as Santana could follow, and then back down to the sliding glass door. When she looked at the girl in her arms again, her teeth were gleaming and she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I have a plan…"

She trailed off, taking Santana by the hand and tugging her inside the house.

* * *

><p>Quinn and Rachel had escaped the party downstairs by claiming Puck's bedroom. They had made sure to check the closet and under the bed in case someone had anticipated a couple hooking up in one of the bedrooms and wanted to be a perv. Rachel wouldn't have ever put anything past Jacob Ben Israel, especially considering he had showed up at Santana's pool earlier that week; he had hid behind the shed and attempted to record them via his cell phone. Brittany was the first to spot him and lunged out of the pool and tackled him to the ground. Even though he seemed to enjoy her naked legs straddling him to the ground, he ended his adventure with a bloody nose courtesy of Santana's foot. The four of them hoped he would learn his lesson enough to leave that kind of behavior in high school, as unlikely as it seemed, Quinn stated.<p>

The two of them ended up on the bed which had to be seeing less action than it was normally used to as they innocently laid together, legs intertwined and Rachel's head on Quinn's arm. They were on their sides and far enough apart to see each other. Rachel stroked Quinn's face in drunken admiration; her glossy eyes were still focused enough to give Quinn goosebumps as they surveyed each strand of hair that Rachel pushed from her cheek.

"You're leaving tomorrow," Quinn stated. Her voice was quiet in the bright room and it snapped Rachel out of her reverie.

"I am."

"I already feel miles apart from you." She chuckled. "Is that silly?"

Rachel nodded with a smile on her face.

"Very silly, sweetie. I'm here." She pushed closer as she said it, offering as much of herself to Quinn as she could. "If it weren't for orientation being a week, I wouldn't have to leave so soon. I could skip it."

"No, Rach," Quinn ordered. "You need to go. That doesn't mean I won't miss you, but it's your dream."

Rachel couldn't help but sigh and brush more hair behind Quinn's ear.

"You know, it's not my only dream. You're my dream too."

A faint pink brightened Quinn's cheeks and she had to break her gaze from Rachel's face to the pillow beneath them.

"Hey," Rachel insisted, scooting closer, "we'll see each other in two weeks. You have your metro pass and the second you're out of classes that Friday you'll be on the way to me. And hopefully my roommates will understand that my locked door means no knocking."

Quinn snickered. "I think in college you have to develop some type of 'sock-on-the-doorknob' situation."

Rachel frowned, her forehead pulling her eyebrows down. "Not _my_ sock."

"Mine then," Quinn offered. She leaned forward and pecked Rachel's nose.

Some silence passed as the two of them continued to study each other. Quinn wanted to commit every crease in Rachel's lips and every curve of her nose to memory, as if she hadn't done that a million times before. Rachel seemed content to indulge Quinn's studious observation and tried her hardest to look as much like herself as possible.

"Got it?" she asked.

The silence pressed on her more than it did her girlfriend. Rachel would rather tell her a million stories and all of her hopes and dreams because if she told the truth, the only thing she wanted Quinn to remember was her voice. She wanted her to remember what it sounded like singing their favorite songs, what is sounded like ordering vegan-friendly food off takeout menus, and most importantly how she sounded when she said 'I love you.'

"Yeah, just do me a favor and," she scooted closer, pulling Rachel's hand from her face and tucking it behind her neck, "hold me."

Rachel did as she was asked and noticed over the next hour as her drunk wore off the hazy feeling of holding Quinn took over. She much preferred the latter.

Quinn continued to memorize and savor every last moment they had together. She always worried each moment with Rachel would be the last, while ultimately knowing they wouldn't be apart for long.

* * *

><p>The stars were bright in the night sky above Brittany and Santana as they lay atop Puck's house, a comforter they had stolen from his sister's bedroom beneath them to pad the rough shingles. They had climbed out of her bedroom and it was only a short distance from the windowsill to the roof. Brittany was careful to support Santana on the way up since she seemed still pretty off-balance from the beer.<p>

They were laying side by side, fingers entwined between them.

Santana's breathing had slowed down to a whisper of air and Brittany worried she had fallen asleep. She turned her head and checked, scanning her eyes in the dark. Before she got the chance to prod and poke in investigation, Santana turned to her and smiled.

"I thought you were sleeping," Brittany said. She started to scratch her thumbnail against the skin of Santana's index finger.

"Nah. Just thinking. Waiting."

They were both waiting since Sam had told them during the pong game that Puck and Finn had planned to set off fireworks at midnight. It had been almost eleven-thirty when they walked through the house and the show was due at any time. But Brittany was increasingly less concerned with the fireworks and very concerned with how they were going to get down after they were over. She tried her best to put that out of her mind.

"It should have happened by now," she stated, sitting up to check the ground below them.

There were fewer people than when they had left earlier and that meant two things: the alcohol had disappeared enough that people who weren't hooking up had no reason to stay and the others were afraid of the cops—who usually let the final party of the year run longer than the others—finally showing up to bust the stragglers. Puck had little time before his display would only entertain themselves, the glee kids, and her and Santana who would have the best seats in the neighborhood.

"_Confucius says, 'Good thing come to those who wait_,'_" _Santana giggled at herself and the delivery of her joke. Brittany rolled her eyes at the girl who was still pretty drunk. One of Santana's long fingers poked her in between her eyes. "Don't, your eyes will get stuck if you keep doing that."

"If _yours_ haven't gone crossed by now, I think I'm safe."

"Rude." She poked Brittany again in the same spot.

Brittany grabbed her hand and lightly bit the tip of her finger. Even though it couldn't have really hurt her, Santana ripped her hand back and shook it.

"Abuse."

"Shh," Brittany whispered as she lay back down. "It's going to start soon."

Santana leaned up on her elbow and hovered over her.

"I love you."

Brittany chuckled.

"I know, babe."

"No. Say it back."

"I love you, Santana."

Santana continued to hover over her and she leant up to kiss her into submission. It was fast but she used enough force to push Santana back down onto the comforter. When she pulled away, dodging continuous attempts by Santana to snag her lips again, she gently held her down.

"You do, don't you," Santana said as more of a statement than a question. She sounded entirely in awe and confusion, as if she had figured it out all over again.

Brittany chalked it up to Santana drinking her body weight in booze and did what she knew she would have to do for their future of excessive college drinking and reassured her beautiful, inebriated girlfriend.

"I do. More than anything. Now be quiet and watch the fireworks."

The first mortar had gone off above their heads as Brittany turned her face towards the sky. A bright orange lit up the back of the house and there were cheers from every part of the yard. They even heard a few from the inside of the house echo and reverberate under them. The crackling and fizzle of the fireworks woke up Brittany's body and she gazed over at Santana to see that they hadn't done the same for her.

Instead of tackling her to the roof with an assault of kisses and removing the shirt that pressed against Santana's body in all the right places, Brittany looked back up and watched the next round of fireworks—an assortment of green, yellow, and pink—explode against the glittering white stars. They were so exciting to her that she wanted to jump and cheer with the rest of the kids on the ground below, even though she knew attempting that on top of a house would have dangerous consequences. She settled for letting out a delighted squeal and clapping.

"It's so perfect," she whispered into the night as the final fireworks sizzled into wisps of smoke and embers. "I love fireworks. Don't you, babe?"

She looked amongst the remaining crowd, mostly the glee kids, and saw a commotion that looked like Sam had burnt his hand lighting the last bunch. Mercedes was escorting him into the house, demanding Puck follow and show her where the first-aid kit was. From the dopey look on his face, he seemed to not know where his _house_ was, let alone a first-aid kit.

When Brittany realized how long it had been since she asked her question and hadn't gotten an answer, she turned to find that Santana had passed out somewhere between the last colored fireworks and the flashing white ones that Puck, Finn, and Sam set off rapid-fire as their version of a grand finale. She had to smile at how serene Santana looked and how very tight she had pulled her body into a ball to keep warm.

If they could stay up there all night, Brittany would have simply tucked herself behind and fallen fast asleep, but two girls sleeping on the roof might be hard for Puck to explain to his mom the next morning when she got home from the hospital. Instead, Brittany decided to wake Santana up only as much as she needed to, in order to get them off the roof.

First thing first, she ran her hand smoothly down Santana's arm, encouraging her to move off the blanket. When she complied, she balled up the blanket and tossed it over the edge of the house. Brittany thought she heard someone whisper, "What the hell?" as it dropped and couldn't help but smirk. Next, she found Puck's sisters room and leaned over the edge to tug the window open—she had closed it on their way up earlier.

Santana had begun to stir once her skin scratched against the rough shingles and Brittany took the opportunity to lift and coax her to the windowsill.

"S, I need you to get up for just two minutes. Two," she instructed.

Santana wavered and opened her eyes. She grinned when she saw Brittany holding her.

"Where're we going?"

"Gotta get off the roof, babe."

Santana nodded and looked over the side of the house. When she saw the ground, she immediately bucked backwards into Brittany, horrified that she would fall.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's chest from the back and urged her to calm down.

"It's alright. We're just going to go right in that window, you see it?" Santana nodded. "You already got up here, now we just gotta go down. Just lean over and put your feet in."

She held onto the house with one hand and kept the other in Brittany's, making sure she wouldn't fall. Brittany wanted to laugh at how seriously she approached the task, like they were in a James Bond movie and had little time to move before a bomb went off. After Santana had climbed into the window, she carefully maneuvered herself inside the room.

"You sure know how to wake a girl up," Santana said with a pout.

Brittany giggled and kissed that pout.

* * *

><p>It had already been an emotional enough day having to pack up their rooms, but when Quinn called and made sure they were still taking her to the airport, Santana had a hard times stifling her tears. She had spent the last six months making sure no one saw her cry about their separation. Brittany pushed and pushed for her to show some emotion, but she didn't even shed a tear the day Kurt left. She had hugged him and wished him the best, informed him that even though she would be across the country, if someone gave him shit in New York she wouldn't hesitate to take the next flight and kick their ass. But that was the extent of her public emotions when it came to parting.<p>

With one exception.

_Rachel's dads had gone past security, which meant that she would have to go soon as well. Quinn asked for moral support as she said her goodbye to Rachel at the airport and because Brittany was busy with her family, Santana accompanied her. It was a lot of awkward standing around as the two held each other and cried into each other's shoulders. _

_Santana didn't blame Rachel's dads for wanting to escape their devastating goodbyes. _

_There came a moment, however, when Quinn left to buy Rachel a bottle of water from the concessions, that they were left alone, standing together and discussing Rachel's plans upon reaching the city. Santana tried her hardest to talk on autopilot and keep the conversation shallow, but it was Rachel Berry she was talking with._

"_Santana…"_

"_Berry," she returned, trying to remain resigned and disinterested._

"_I want you to know that as far as friends go, you're one of the best I've ever had."_

_Santana felt a lump in her throat and commanded herself to hold it back._

"_Slushies?"_

"_No, after that." Rachel stepped closer." Do you remember the time we all went ice skating junior year?"_

"_Mhm." The lump was rising and threatening to burst._

_Rachel's eyes were teary and she looked like she did a thousand times in glee club when she got a part that she really wanted._

"_Well, that moment I realized that I could have the three of you as friends. Something I never thought I would accomplish as long as we were forced to be around each other. It meant that I had turned the stone-cold, hellish, nightmare cheerleader into someone that I could trust with my entire life. I just wanted to say thank—"_

"_Don't talk about Quinn like that, munchkin." At that point, Santana wasn't even trying to hold the tears back. They were sliding down her cheeks and she brushed them away with her knuckle. _

"_I'm not."_

_Before she could stop herself, Santana was grabbing Rachel around the neck and pulling her into a desperate hug. "Fuck, shut up, midget."_

_They were both crying and still hugging when Quinn showed up a minute or two later._

"_What the hell did I miss here?" _

If she had reacted that way to Rachel, Santana didn't want to even imagine that she would have to say goodbye to Quinn in just a few short hours. Brittany hadn't mentioned it all day and she figured that was for her benefit.

An hour later, they were sitting in the car, Brittany in the back and Quinn in the passenger seat, on their way to the airport. No one had said anything yet and that's why it came as a surprise to everyone when Santana had the courage to ask a direct question.

"Your mom didn't want to come?"

Quinn looked over with a hard expression and shrugged. Santana gave her a quick glance and saw how glassy her eyes were and then immediately returned them to the road. She wouldn't be able to make the rest of the ride to Dayton if she saw the same sadness reflected in Quinn's eyes that she felt in her chest.

Brittany continued to be quiet in the back as some sort of moderator to their conversations. She and Quinn had spent days crying—or so Santana was told as she never hung out with them for that—and promising each other that nothing would change their friendship and planned how they would make up for not see each other with a combination of visits, Skype calls, and daily text conversations. However, both admitted that they would have to try their hardest and if it turned out their plan didn't work, they would understand. It wouldn't change the visits to Lima for holidays and the birthday calls that were mandatory. Quinn and Brittany had a determination to each other and what Santana had gathered from snippets of their conversations Brittany felt obligated to tell her, they were very serious.

She didn't have to worry about forgetting Quinn because she knew every day they were apart would be hard unless they found some way to communicate. Without someone keeping her ego in check and telling her when she was being stupid and irrational Santana's life would collapse, so she needed Quinn. That's not what made saying goodbye so hard; it was the way Quinn also seemingly needed her to not do stupid things. She didn't want to give up her place in Quinn's life for anything and feared the worst when so much distance separated them.

Before long they had reached the airport and were loading Quinn's bags onto a cart, leading her through the airport like they had with Rachel a few days before. Luckily Santana and Brittany would not have a tearful airport or bus station departure since they were driving out the next day. They were afforded the opportunity to leave straight from their houses and give Lima a final sweep on the way out of town. They had one last significant stop anyway.

Quinn stood in line to check her bags while Santana and Brittany leaned against a near wall.

Santana hadn't taken her eyes off Quinn the entire time and Brittany had obviously noticed.

"Last chance, S," she warned.

Santana sighed.

"Last chance for what?"

Brittany grabbed her shoulders, forgetting her promise to let Santana deal with it on her own and to never push. She had to force something out of her girlfriend before their best friend left them. Who knew when the next time they would see each other would be?

"I will leave if that's what you want. I'll go sit in the car. Please, just say something to Quinn about how much you'll miss her. She was practically shaking in the car, Santana. The two of you are going to give me a heart attack! You stress me out so _much_!"

"Brittany…"

"No!" She threw her hands up in the air and turned on her heel to find Quinn who had slowly been making her way towards them. Brittany hugged her, catching her off guard, and then kissed her cheek. Santana couldn't make out what was said between them, but Quinn's eyes were wet with tears again. She hugged Brittany, returned a kiss to her cheek and squeezed her arm.

And then Brittany left. She walked against the crowd and disappeared out of the airport without once turning to gesture or say anything to Santana.

Quinn looked just as dumfounded as Santana felt, watching Brittany leave through the sliding glass doors. Once the girl was out of sight, Quinn turned back to Santana, took a deep breath and walked back over.

"She's something else," she commented.

Santana nodded, her eyes still on the airport entrance.

"I'll say."

Quinn clicked her tongue. "Really? If the last two hours were anything, I'd believe you don't know how to say your own name."

"Oh, so the last thing we're gonna do is argue with each other. That would be typical us, wouldn't it, Quinnie?"

Quinn lightly punched her in the shoulder and smirked. She readjusted her oversized brown-leather backpack and sighed under the weight of something—probably not the bag if Santana could still correctly understand Quinn's moods. Neither of them said anything for a long moment and Quinn finally broke the silence when her bag hit the ground and she pulled Santana in a tight embrace.

"Quinn…"

Santana's eyes filled instantaneously with the tears that she had held back for almost a year since Quinn told them about Yale.

"I love you, Santana. Shit." Quinn grossly sniffled into Santana's shoulder but she couldn't care less as her own face became a mess of emotion. "You're going to miss me, right?"

"I already miss you, moron." She stammered over the insult and it just felt wrong. "Quinn, you've always been there for me. I don't know what I ever would have done without you."

"Same here."

Their arms were tight, but to Santana still not tight enough and she practically broke her arms trying to get Quinn closer. She absentmindedly wished she could grab a piece of Quinn and keep it with her.

"You are one of the most important people in my entire life," Santana told her, trying to speak through her deep breaths. "Do you get that?" Her tone started to turn hostile and she couldn't control it. "I swear to god, Quinn. Don't call me back and I'll show up in Connecticut knocking on every door on that nerd-infested campus until I find your ass to kick."

"I got it, Santana. I do."

Santana cleared her throat and felt like she could finally let go without falling to tiny, tear-soaked pieces. Quinn studied her for a long second and then threw herself back into Santana's arms, smothering her with another grandiose hug.

"Take care, Q."

"Take care, S." Quinn leaned up and kissed the side of her head. "I love you."'

Santana nodded, her hair brushing against Quinn's cheek. "Yeah, yeah."

They broke apart for the finale time and Santana watched her gather her things and follow the line of people going through the metal detectors. Wrapping her arms around herself, Santana's eyes followed her until Quinn turned around and waved her hand goodbye. It broke Santana again and she didn't care who was watching her make an ass of herself in the middle of the airport. She waved and smiled as large as her face would allow.

And then Quinn was gone.

* * *

><p>The park was filled to the edges with little kids. Santana couldn't help but watch them and ponder her and Brittany's story, meeting there at a similar age. She pulled her closer and stroked her fingers along the smooth skin of Brittany's wrist to pass on what she was feeling at that moment.<p>

Brittany must have understood because lips were flush against her temple not a second later.

"Love you," she whispered softly.

"You too."

They found their way to the edge of the pond and watched the rippling waves as the bugs flew into the center. They saw past the shadow of the sun, like a bullseye in the middle of the water, farther into the dense forest that they hadn't ever explored. Santana felt guilt for the first time that they hadn't ever gone back that far and claimed the woods as their own as they had the rest of the public park. She knew that it could be a project for another day long in the future when they would make their return to Lima, even if she didn't know when that would happen.

Brittany's eyes didn't wander to what they had left untouched but went straight over every blade of grass and every metal slide that they _had_ made their own, so much that she could almost see the stains of their fingerprints. She saw the field where they had kissed listening to music on a nippy day in Spring. The bench where she had gotten a splinter at the age of eight that Santana tried to dig out for three hours with a pocket-knife she'd stolen from her dad and the way she cried whenever Brittany gave out a large yelp—she still had the scar from the stitches Santana's dad had to put in after the bloody mess she had made of Brittany's finger. There were an incredible amount of memories that she had defined her life with that they were leaving behind to make new ones, and the only commonality that she drew between them was the person she was leaving with.

They left the water with one last piece of nostalgia in mind that they couldn't make their final trek through town without visiting and that was the still-freshly painted swing that had begun the course of their lives. Brittany broke away from Santana quick enough to claim the seat first and she smiled when Santana instantly took a place behind to push, as they had always done.

"This is so surreal," Santana said when Brittany had finally had enough of jumping off the swing.

"It's not going anywhere."

"It's still weird," she lamented, running her hands down the sun-warmed poles. The coat of paint was thick beneath her fingertips and she hated the change in her memory of the feeling. The more she ran her hand up and down the more of her original memory started to fade.

Suddenly, she had what felt like a brilliant idea. She wanted to leave a memory that would last on their swing-set. Something that might be covered with paint, but would still stick out against the fresh coat. Santana rummaged around in her pocket for her keys and quickly twisted one off of the ring that's purpose she couldn't remember and knelt down on the ground in front of the front left pole. She could feel Brittany's inquisitive glance lingering on her back as she worked on the message and deeply set the letters into the metal pole. She dug in as hard as she could, going over it twice, and a third time to leave her mark, literally.

After a good five minutes of scraping into the swing, she sat back on her heels and gave Brittany enough room to see past her to what she had inscribed. The hands that had been on the chain supporting the seat were then on her shoulders and pulling her backwards in a hug to trap them in the perfect moment.

It wasn't long before there were kids crowding the swings and when a few particularly looked left out, Brittany suggested they leave and donate their swing to a worthy kid. Santana laughed and felt her heart swell in such a bittersweet moment that she had a hard time taking a breath. They walked hand in hand out of the park and found her car, packed up so full in the backseat that there was a tense pressure against their backs as they got in. She dug in her pocket and pulled her phone out to send a final text to her mom that they were actually leaving, after the three false starts they had taken earlier that morning.

Once, they decided that they had forgotten everything (they actually left a lot of important things) after reaching the '_Leaving Lima, Come Back Soon'_ sign.

The second time, Brittany couldn't stop crying on the doorstep of her home when all of her stuff had been loaded into the car. Santana had to take care of her all the way back into the house.

The last time, the one before they had gotten in the car on the way to the park as a way to make their way slowly out of town, Santana had locked herself in her parent's bathroom, clinging to her dad's shirt. He said goodbye the night before and she decided that wasn't good enough.

Luckily, he came home an hour later and was able to talk her out of the bathroom.

"Are you sure you love me enough to move cross country with me?" Santana asked, twisting the key in the ignition and slowly putting the car in reverse. "To spend every minute of the next four years together, sleep in the same bed, ignoring each other to study. Fighting over pop-tarts and toast?" She hesitated around a corner when Brittany held her phone out the window to take a last photo of Lima Park. "Don't lie."

After putting her phone away, Brittany pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head and scrolled through the iPod for a good song. She picked one and gave Santana a tiny nod. She was absolutely ready for all of that.

"There's no one else in this world that I would rather fight with over food and to sleep in the same bed with. And I wouldn't lie about it to you."

She smiled as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road that would take them far, far away.

"Not ever."

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<br>**


	62. this is now my home, my home

**Epilogue**

* * *

><p>One of them had left the bedroom window open, screeching horns and shouting people echoing up into the window, waking Santana. She twisted her neck to the side, letting it crack into place, painful from the night before stuck with her head in a book for her music composition class. Her latest project, a combination of everyday sounds morphed into a pleasing score for a minute long clip of b-roll, had been kicking her ass since her professor assigned it two weeks before. A lot of the technical stuff hadn't come easy after starting classes, so she spent extra time learning the programs she had to use on a daily basis.<p>

A bird hopped from one screen to the other on their apartment and Santana groaned, willing herself to fall back asleep on their one day off. She wanted to lay in bed and sleep, comforted by the tight arm around her midsection. She wasn't surprised when it squeezed a little too tight to still be asleep.

"Pancakes or waffles," Brittany mumbled into the back of her neck, her lips brushing so delicately it sent a shiver down Santana's back.

Santana set her arm down and carefully covered Brittany's to where their hands matched up evenly. She slipped her fingers in the crevasses between where Brittany's long fingers gripped her hip.

"Waffles," she answered, picking up Brittany's hand and bringing it to her lips to kiss each finger tenderly.

"Chocolate chip," Brittany asked through a sigh, "or blueberry."

"Chocolate chip," Santana mumbled between kisses. When she finished with those, she leaned back into Brittany far enough to snag a kiss from her lips.

Brittany hummed back, tongue coming out to probe at Santana's lips. Santana welcomed it, smoothing hers against it lazily, not wanting to initiate any morning activities because she had the overwhelming desire to fall back asleep as soon as possible.

Brittany broke off and followed up with a quick kiss to her lips. "Good. Go make them for us."

Santana glanced up at her and once deciding that she was being serious, laughed.

"Unbelievable."

Brittany smirked and kissed her again.

"I'm too tired to move."

"You're not the only one, babe." Santana licked her lips and then smirked back at Brittany. "You taste oddly familiar."

She reached down and grabbed Brittany's fingers again, taking her index finger and running it gently along the inside of her bottom lip. A blush rushed into Brittany's cheeks and she turned away to stifle a cough. Santana kissed the finger again and smiled. "There it is."

"You're such a perv," Brittany joked, leaning down and kissing her again.

"Does that bother you?"

Brittany looked thoughtful for a second and then smirked. "Not one bit."

Santana sat up and kissed Brittany, fitting her top lip between her own, content in the feel of their skin together. It was hard to think of a time when she couldn't just do this, unafraid of what it all meant.

"Alright," she breathed, "let me up."

They shuffled their bodies and the sheets, Santana finally climbing free to find only the socks she tugged on last night before they fell asleep were still intact. She looked down at her body, then at the floor where her clothes lay, and then back to Brittany blatantly checking her out, deciding no clothes seemed like a fine enough choice.

Santana walked from the bedroom into their tiny living room, reached up, grabbed the wall that separated that room from the kitchen, and twirled into the kitchen—more of a kitchenette than kitchen actually.

She opened the freezer and checked to see if they had frozen waffles, hoping she wouldn't be forced to make them homemade. After all, she _was_ tired. A yellow box of Eggo chocolate chip waffles sat on the shelf next to an empty box of blueberry ones—Brittany had a habit of leaving empty boxes in the refrigerator, only making Santana mad when she wanted a Coke and there wasn't one left—and she thanked the waffle-lord for being kind to her.

Their toaster toasted four at a time, a lovingly thought-out contribution to the apartment, so she put them all in and disposed of the now-empty box. She made a mental note to remind Brittany about the need for waffles. Pancakes were okay, but they both seemed to prefer waffles. Maybe because they only needed a toaster for cooking and with the two of them attending classes, needed the convenience waffles provided.

She grabbed two blue disposable cups and found the milk in their bare fridge, pouring them both a cup. When the waffles popped she managed to fit them onto two plates, and arrange the cups so she could carry them all back to the bedroom at the same time.

Kicking the door open with her foot, she found Brittany fast asleep on her side of the bed. Santana smiled to herself and sat the stuff down on her dresser at the foot of the bed. She padded quietly over to Brittany's side of the bed and leaned down over top of her. The possibilities of what she could do to wake her up were endless, but she settled on what seemed the most simple.

"Brittany!"

Her voice was so loud it chaotically startled Brittany enough to where she shot up and her forehead collided with Santana's chin. Santana fell backwards on the ground and her hand shot up to cover her chin where Brittany had struck her. It throbbed painfully and she stifled a cry of pain.

"Fuck," she garbled out brusquely, rubbing her hand back and forth along the edge of her face.

"What the hell, S?" Brittany was staring at her over the side of the bed, obviously trying to cover a smirk.

"I didn't think that through carefully enough," Santana said loud enough for Brittany to hear her.

"Ya think?"

Santana glared up at her and then smiled, seeing the quickly bruising lump on her forehead.

"Try explaining that," she pointed up with one hand, "to your interpretative rhythm teacher."'

Brittany covered the spot with one hand, wincing when she pressed too hard and groaned.

"Damn it, Santana. I have a piece due on Friday."

"Maybe you shouldn't have fallen asleep."

Brittany frowned.

"You would have done the same exact thing if I left you in here."

She raised her hand to protest but then realized Brittany had a very good point. The air started to pungently fill with the scent of waffles and she perked up, remembering them. "Food's ready."

Brittany seemingly forgot the growing knob on her head and smiled. "Awesome."

Once Santana was up, she handed Brittany her food and drink, picking up her own and finding her place on the bed. They settled in and just as she was going to take a sip of milk, Brittany's waffle crashed against her cup.

"Cheers," Brittany said with a knowing smirk.

Santana looked around the bed and then rolled her eyes. "I forgot forks."

Brittany shrugged. "I like eating them this way."

Santana smiled, picking up her waffle and tapping it against Brittany's.

"Cheers."

When they were finished, Santana took both of their plates and dropped them into a wastebasket next to her side table. Brittany had crawled into her side and wrapped a leg in between hers when she turned back, smiling at the welcome presence.

Santana put her arm around Brittany's shoulders, tugging her closer. Her fingers traced lightly through the long, blonde hair swishing against her neck.

"What do you want to do today?"

Santana pursed her lips trying to think of a viable answer. What could they do? After moving to L.A. they had really explored all they could in the first year of school. Plus with Rachel and Quinn's visits, they tried to save a lot of major locales for the four of them to enjoy. In reality there were thousands of things to do: the beach, shopping, or finding a grocery store that didn't have such expensive bread. They each had gotten part time jobs, to accompany the steady flow of money their parents were pumping into the apartment and were frequently busy with school. Whether it was Brittany performing in her school's ballet or Santana's gigs with the band she had joined at the beginning of their sophomore year. It was hard a lot of the time to see each other outside of the apartment.

But on their first day off together in almost a month, Santana only really wanted one thing.

"To lay here. With you. All day."

Brittany smiled into her chest and kissed the skin around her collarbone.

"We could do that."

Santana pressed her lips against Brittany's forehead.

"Perfect."

They laid together for a few minutes in silence, Brittany tracing her finger around Santana's navel, dipping in every now and then to see how Santana fidgeted in anticipation of something more. Santana shut her eyes, loving every second of it, content exactly where she was.

"Did you know we'd get here," Brittany asked suddenly. "I mean after everything that kept happening."

Santana thought about it. It had been two years since their last big fight, the one about Quinn and Valentine's Day, but after everything, that seemed like nothing to her. She'd fought to keep Brittany against herself and against the rest of the world. At that point, there wasn't much else to think about. Brittany was always forever and always would be.

"There were times in the middle where I wasn't sure of where we'd end up. So many things had happened that confused the hell out of where we were, but I never worried about the outcome. I knew wherever we ended up, it would be together. So yeah, if that's what you're asking, I knew."

Brittany stretched up and kissed her, full on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too." Santana smiled, tangling her fingers with the ones still moving on her stomach.

Brittany smiled up at her and Santana wondered how everyone in the world hadn't fallen in love with that smile.

Then she was grateful, because fighting the world off was hard enough the first time.

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><p><strong>an: Guys, again I am really grateful for everything. It means the world to me that there were people who enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I have headcanons for all four of the girls that go far past college, but this is really the end of this story for me. If you ever wanna ask questions, I have a tumblr and would happily answer anything you want to know. So again, thanks, really. **

** adulteraisin - My tumblr url. Just throwing that out there, not as a plug, but in case you do want to ask any questions.**


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